When the Petal Falls
by ThornRose14
Summary: Maurice works for the cruel Prince Adam in order to support his wife and young daughter. When the Enchantress curses the castle his wife is left alone to raise Belle but when tragedy strikes she is placed in an orphanage. Years later she escapes and sets off in search of a father she believes is still out there. What will happen when she stumbles upon a castle cloaked in winter?
1. Prologue

**When the Petal Falls  
**

* * *

 **Summery:** Maurice works for Prince Adam at the castle to support his wife and young daughter. He is cursed with the rest of the castle when the Enchantress crashes the party, unable to return to his family. Soon after his wife succumbs to her sickness and passes away. Belle is placed in an orphanage for the next thirteen years, until she runs away in search of a father she barely remembers. She vows to find him and bring him home, but she gets more than she bargained for when she stumbles upon a lonely castle surrounded by winter.

 **A/N:** I own nothing. I am merely playing with the characters while supporting my muse. I hope it does not disappoint.

* * *

 **Prologue**

The guests started to arrive just after sunset. Maurice Fournier watched from the stables as the first carriage pulled in. Lumiere immediately jumped into the role of valet and greeted the guests like old friends while Maurice hurried to tend to the horses. They would need water and rest before starting on the journey home hours later. No one paid him any attention as he performed his duties, which was the way he liked it. Neither the servants nor the guests spoke to him, which left him time to take care of his tasks as efficiently as possible. The sooner the party was over the sooner he could return to Villeneuve. He missed his wife and daughter terribly.

Prince Adam never gave his staff much notice when planning a party, which always left them scrambling to prepare. Maurice had overheard Cogsworth complain on more than one occasion how he hated not having enough time to get things organized. The old man was obsessed with running the household as orderly as possible, so anything that was given less than twenty-four hours preparation was welcomed about as much as a snowstorm in winter.

The guests trickled in for the better part of an hour. Just when Maurice finally thought the last of them had arrived, more would appear. Lumiere kept up his cheerful attitude throughout all of it, but Maurice was having difficulty. He knew his wife would be struggling to get Belle off to bed. She'd had a terrible cough for close to a month, and as soon as he had enough money saved up he planned on sending for the town doctor. It pained him to leave the burden of caring for a three-year-old child on an ailing woman but there was nothing to be done for it. Prince Adam may be an overbearing tyrant to work for, but it was the best job he was liable to find. He couldn't afford to lose it just because he was tired and worried for his family.

After Lumiere escorted the last of the guests to the castle, Maurice returned to the now overflowing stables where the sounds of horses neighing and slurping water filled the air. He couldn't take more than two steps without running into one the animals. He didn't mind. He much preferred spending his time in the stables caring for the horses than in the castle tending to hundreds of spoiled, pampered humans. That was always his assumption about the people the prince invited into his home. If the spoiled, selfish prince sought out their company, Maurice didn't think he would care too much for them.

Noticing that one of the water bins was empty, he quickly grabbed it and took it outside to refill from the basin close to the gate. He couldn't help but look out into the scenery beyond. Though it was dark and too far to see from this angle, Villeneuve was only meters away. He tried to imagine what Celine was doing. Was she struggling to put their energetic daughter to bed? Was she reading Belle a bedtime story? Or was she sitting in bed, struggling to breath after yet another coughing fit? He pushed that disturbing thought aside, for it would do no good to worry. There was nothing for him to do until he could return home. Until the party was over, he would just have to focus his energies on his task.

He filled the tub and began his trek back to the stable when he heard the disturbing sound of screaming. He frowned and dropped the tub on the ground by his feet and ran toward the castle.

Though he hoped he'd imagined the scream, he knew he hadn't because a moment later more screams erupted from the closed door. The door didn't remain closed for long. It soon burst open and a stampede of overly dressed woman in white gowns and wigs ran out in what he could only call blind panic. What on Earth was happening?

"Monsieur Lumiere?" Maurice called out uncertainly, pushing his way through the crowd.

"Ach, do not go in there, sir!" cried one of the women he'd unwittingly shoved aside in his haste to enter the castle. "There is a witch inside!"

"A witch?" Maurice's stomach plummeted, but he forced himself to continue. As much as he wanted to run away with the guests, if Prince Adam found out that he'd deserted his post in a time like this he would never find work again. He could not afford that, and neither could his family.

He pushed on, braving the growing crowd of people as he did so. Soon enough he stumbled upon a familiar face. "Mrs. Potts. What's happened?"

The middle-aged housekeeper's face had paled considerably as she considered Maurice. It seemed words had escaped her. She merely raised a shaking arm and pointed in the direction of the ballroom. He was about to run in that direction when she called after him, though not speaking directly to him.

"Chip! Chip, where are you?"

"He went that way, ma'am," answered Lumiere from behind them. Together the three hastened to the ballroom.

What awaited them was worse than Maurice could've imagined.

A beautiful woman was bathed in a brilliant white light, though the sight of her brought chills down his spine. She seemed to hover in mid-air, and she was pointing a red rose at a figure Maurice could only assume was Prince Adam, though it no longer resembled the master Maurice knew. The very sight of the beast wearing the prince's clothes was enough to fill the stable hand's nightmares for the rest of his life.

Mrs. Potts spotted Chip, who seemed to be rooted to the spot near the door. She began pulling him away and turned to Maurice. She opened her mouth, presumably to speak to him, but whatever she'd been about to say was cut off by the most unnatural jerking movements Maurice had ever seen.

He took a step to help her, but he was soon overcome by the movements as well. The pain was unbearable. He felt his bones shift and his muscles bend and twist. He soon felt himself contorting and shrinking until he could no longer move. He could no longer talk. He couldn't even _breathe._

 _What is this magic?_ He longed to ask the question out loud, to demand answers from the witch who was now walking calmly around the castle. She surveyed the room and the new objects inhabiting it as though it was exactly as she was expecting. Her unnaturally beautiful eyes stopped on Maurice for a moment before moving on.

Maurice chanced a look at the spot where Chip and Mrs. Potts had been, but where two humans once stood, now rested a tea cup and matching tea pot. He tried to move in their direction, but discovered to his horror and astonishment that he no longer had any legs.

What was now his body collided with the hardwood floor. He opened his mouth to speak, but no longer had the energy. All he wanted to do, all he _could_ do, was lay on the cold floor.

His last thoughts before he lost consciousness were of his beautiful Celine and darling Belle. _What was to become of them?_


	2. Chapter One

**When the Petal Falls  
**

* * *

 **Summery:** Maurice works for Prince Adam at the castle to support his wife and young daughter. He is cursed with the rest of the castle when the Enchantress crashes the party, unable to return to his family. Soon after his wife succumbs to her sickness and passes away. Belle is placed in an orphanage for the next thirteen years, until she runs away in search of a father she barely remembers. She vows to find him and bring him home, but she gets more than she bargained for when she stumbles upon a lonely castle surrounded by winter.

 **A/N:** Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed, added this story to favorites and/or alerts! I really appreciate it! Hope this chapter does not disappoint!

* * *

 **Chapter One**

The teenage girl crept silently along the corridor, careful not to make a sound. The last thing she needed was to wake the other girls who slept in these rooms. They would not hesitate to report her to Madam Rouchard, the matron of Villeneuve's orphanage. She was a mean, bitter woman who never wasted an opportunity to punish Belle for 'overstepping her bounds,' as she called it.

Overstepping her bounds meant going into the library. It was one thing to clean and dust the shelves full of underused books. It was quite another to take one, sit down, and read it. Only the boys were permitted to read, but none of them did. As far as Belle knew, she was the only one who had any desire to spend time in the dusty library. She would spend hours in there if she could, reading tale after tale. It let her escape her dreary life, even if only for a little while, and forget the provincial life that was hers.

Luckily for Belle, Madam Rouchard was a heavy sleeper, so she did not have to worry about her waking up on her own. Once she passed the closed oak door to her chambers she gave up keeping her gait light and went downstairs to the back of the building to her favorite place in the entire village.

The library itself wasn't large, but it was filled with enough books to keep her busy. She'd been sneaking into the library for the past thirteen years and had yet to get through all the lightly used tomes. She yearned to bring a book back to the room she shared with five other girls, but it would only earn her a punishment from the matron. Secrets did not stay secret for long, especially among others who fought to earn favor from Madam Rouchard by turning in the others for the smallest of infractions. These infractions ranged from boys and girls spending time alone together in an empty room to not brushing one's teeth before bedtime. In Belle's mind it was a pointless endeavor because Madam Rouchard did not seem to favor anyone. It was clear to anyone with eyes that she hated her job and, by extension, the kids in her charge.

Belle had the misfortune to have spent the past thirteen years in the orphanage. She'd been four years old when her mother died. She could barely remember her, but she had vague impressions of soft green eyes and a gentle voice. Sometimes she thought she could remember that voice singing her to sleep or reading her bedtime stories by candlelight. None of the memories, real or imagined, held any hint of a father. This confused her because she ought to have had one, at least at one time. But there was nothing. What had happened to him? Had he died? She wished she knew, but no one she asked seemed to have any idea about her father. It was as though he'd never existed.

More than reading, more than an exciting life, what Belle yearned for most of all was finding her father. Whether he was dead or alive, she wanted to know what happened to him. She wanted to know whether he knew she existed, and if he did, whether he ever thought about her. Of course, that prospect brought painful thoughts of its own. If he knew about her, why hadn't he come for her? Maybe he didn't know where she was, though she found that highly unlikely. Villeneuve was a small village, and she'd lived there her entire life, as her mother had before her.

As she pushed open the door to the library, she forced any thoughts of her parents out of her mind. It never did her any good to dwell upon her past because it only filled her with confusion, anger, and sorrow. She only had minutes, maybe an hour in the library if she was lucky. She didn't want to waste them on circumstances she couldn't change.

She wrapped the thin blanket she used as a cloak tighter around her shoulders to keep away the chill as she walked to the shelf that housed her current reading choice. She'd been somewhat surprised to find a book full of castles, princes and princesses, and fire-breathing dragons in a library that housed otherwise realistic stories and prose, but had devoured it regardless. It was easily her favorite book and she would be quite disappointed when she finished it.

Belle took her book to the little nook by the window. The sun was just beginning to rise, bringing enough light to read by. She settled herself in, bringing her legs up so she could rest the book against her upper thighs. A draft of cold air caused her to shiver, and she thought longingly of the fireplace beside the window, wishing she could start a fire. Part of sneaking in here meant that she could leave no trace. Even though it was rare for anyone else to venture into the library, she did not want to touch any more than she had to. She'd never kept her love of reading a secret, so it would not be difficult for Madam Rouchard to guess who'd been there.

Soon Belle was lost in the story. So far her favorite part was when the girl met the prince, even though he was in disguise. He liked to wander about town and get to know the people as they were, not what they wanted to show him when they knew who he was. She enjoyed it because the girl in the story got to know the real prince, which made their meeting genuine and, by extension, real.

Belle got so absorbed in her story that she nearly lost all track of time. It wasn't until she heard the distant sound of a door slamming that she shut her book and hastily returned it to the shelf where she'd found it. Madam Rouchard was always the first one to wake. Once she finished she always banged on the doors to the rooms in both the girls' and boys' dormitories as loudly as she could. She never said a word; she didn't have to. She struck enough fear in her charges that they knew what was expected of them without needing explanations.

She stopped by the door and strained her ears to listen for any sign that the matron was coming downstairs. She didn't hear any footsteps, so she took the opportunity to sneak back upstairs to her room.

When she arrived she was relieved to discover that they were still sleeping. She hurried to her bed and pulled the covers around her just as the dreaded pounding started on the door.

As though some type of alarm had gone off, the five other girls shot out of bed and immediately began dressing. Belle was slower, intentionally looking as though she'd just woken up and rubbed imaginary sleep from her eyes. She caught a few of her roommates giving her suspicious looks but they looked away when they met her gaze.

Belle made sure she was the last one dressed. She threw on her usual blue dress and took her time sweeping her dark brown hair into a braid that ended halfway down her back. She sighed when she appraised her reflection. It was the same look day after day. Nothing ever changed.

She thought longingly of the book that was awaiting her in the library as she made her way downstairs for the second time that morning. She would've forgone breakfast if it meant she could take another hour diving into the love story between the girl and her mysterious prince. She even thought she would volunteer for dusting that day if it meant she could steal some time in her favorite room.

As she entered the dining room, Belle felt the dislike emanating from the room in waves toward her. It was no mystery that the other inhabitants of the orphanage thought she was strange. Only it felt like more than that. It felt as though they all judged her for liking things that no one else did. The others simply did not understand her. Not that they'd ever tried. Belle could still recall her first day at the orphanage in startling detail. Madam Rouchard had pulled her along by the upper arm to the room in which she occupied to this day.

"This is to be your room. Girls, get Belle acquainted. She's to live here now."

Those had been the only words the matron had spoken that day. After she left Belle alone with the others she'd mustered her courage and asked the five other girls their names.

Something about Belle must've made the others instantly mistrust her because they'd simply turned away from her and continued their needlework. Four-year-old Belle's eyes had instantly brimmed with tears, not just at the acute loss of her mother, but at the blatant rejection she'd just received from the girls who she was supposed to share a room and a life with.

Belle no longer cared. Many of those girls had moved on, either from adoption or, far more commonly, aged out. Soon she would be moving out because in six months, she turned eighteen. Madam Rouchard was probably counting down the days until she was rid of Belle permanently.

 _She's not the only one,_ Belle thought as she found a seat at the table with her roommates and loaded her plate up with hard biscuits and oatmeal.

No one at her table spoke a word. Belle was used to the stony silence by now and paid the others no heed. She watched with minimal interest as the boys entered the dining hall a few minutes later and sat down on their side of the room, dressed for their day at school in the same uniform. Some of the girls giggled at the sight of them, but Belle merely rolled her eyes and continued eating.

All too soon Madam Rouchard stopped at their table to deliver the daily tasks. "Listen up girls, because I'm only going to go through this once. Ellen," she indicated a small blond haired girl sitting beside Belle, "you're on dinner duty."

Ellen sunk down a little in her seat and immediately began finishing her breakfast so she could get down to the market before the good pickings were gone.

"Marie will be washing the floors. Sabina is to wash the windows. Agnes is to polish and dust every surface in every room. Louise and Belle are on laundry duty."

All the girls stifled groans at their assigned tasks.

"If I find that these chores are not completed satisfactorily, there will be no dinner tonight, or meals the following day, and the tasks are to be repeated until they are done properly. Is this understood?" Madam Rouchard barked at the table.

"Yes, madam," the girls chorused.

Once Madam Rouchard marched away the girls let out their groans but otherwise did not say anything. Belle eyed Louise uncertainly. The other girl always made her disdain for Belle evident in everything she did. The laundry was the only task that required two people because of the enormity of the amount of clothes and linens that needed washing each day. The only reason Belle mildly enjoyed the dull task was so she could get out of the stifling building for the majority of the day. She liked to mingle around Villeneuve because it gave her the opportunity to see the rest of the village.

After breakfast Belle and Louise gathered the laundry and stuffed the dirty garments into the two large baskets before heading to the fountain. The walk was silent, as it always was, so Belle spent the time imaging which people she passed had known her mother before she died.

She longed to ask them about her father, but doing so would be impossible with Louise in tow. Talking to the other villagers was forbidden except in necessary circumstances. Though Madam Rouchard claimed it was for their safety, Belle knew it was only to isolate them further. The villagers knew this rule and heeded it only too willingly.

Belle sighed as she and Louise arrived at the fountain. Louise began gathering the garments from her basket and set at once to her task. Belle took her time, ignoring the curious looks she got from the other women at the fountain. She spent the day thinking about how the laundry could be accomplished so much quicker with devices that did it for you. Her time was usually spent this way, but she could never do anything about it. Girls were not only forbidden to read, but to write as well. Belle had taught herself to do both during her solitary mornings in the library as a child, but she could not do it in front of anyone, especially the other orphans. It would only lead to miserable punishments.

Belle wasn't sure how much time had passed, but the sun was beginning to set when she heard an impatient voice beside her.

"Are you about finished?"

Belle looked up, surprised to find Louise's cold blue eyes glaring daggers at her. "Just about."

"Well, hurry up. It's almost dinner, and I'm starving."

"If you want to go ahead, I'll just finish these up and follow after you. Just tell Madam Rouchard…"

"I'll tell her you were daydreaming again and fell behind as usual," Louise cut in, already picking up her basket. "I won't be punished for your ineptitude."

Louise turned on her heel and stormed away without so much as a backward glance. Belle watched her go, not all that sorry to see the back of her. She knew she was in for a night of hunger, if not a lashing. She bit her lip as she finished cleaning the shirt she'd been washing, and hung it to dry though it would never be done in time. She quickly gathered the pants that had been hanging and stuffed them into the basket without folding them. She'd already be punished putting in any effort seemed pointless.

Belle jumped when a strange hand reached out from behind her and pulled a pair of boy's trousers from a hook. When she turned she saw a tall, handsome man in a red coat smiling down at her, waving the trousers lazily in the air.

"Need a hand?"

Belle took the proffered trousers and stuffed them into the basket. "Thanks," she muttered and turned to follow Louise.

"I don't believe we've met," the man continued as he hurried to catch up to her. "My name is Gaston LeFevre, and I run the local pub just at the top of the road."

He indicated a small building in the center of town, just on the other side of the road where the laundry fountain was. Belle tried to step away from him, but he blocked her path and placed his hand on her basket so she could not get away. "Are you new in town?"

At this Belle couldn't help but scoff. "No. I've lived here all my life."

The man known as Gaston frowned, his dark eyes twinkling in amusement. "I think I would remember seeing a beautiful maiden walking around town before now. What is your name? Maybe that will help jog my memory."

"My name is Belle Fournier, and the reason you've never seen me around town is because I live at Madam Rouchard's Home for Vagrant Children." She indicated the towering building on the very edge of town, hoping the news of where she lived would scare him off.

It did not.

"Well, that certainly explains it, then. Will you return tomorrow? I will gladly help you if it means I can see you again."

Belle gaped at him. Who was this man who would take up women's work just to talk to her? Was he genuine? Or did he have ulterior motives? She'd read enough stories with men who did whatever they could to acquire the girl they lusted after to be properly wary.

"I…I don't think so. Madam Rouchard switches the tasks between us. Tomorrow you'll see two new girls out here."

Gaston's hopeful expression faltered, but only for a moment. "Then at least let me walk you back. What kind of gentleman would I be if I let a beautiful girl walk alone after sunset?"

Belle blushed in spite of herself. That was the second time this man had called her beautiful. No one had ever said that word to her before. Knowing she would probably regret it, Belle nodded her acquiescence.

"Wonderful!" Gaston exclaimed. Before she could stop him, he snatched the basket out of her hands and carried it as though it were a basket full of feathers.

He tried getting her to explain how she'd ended up at the orphanage, but she reluctantly told him she could barely remember her life before. She explained how her mother died when she was very young, and that her father was a complete mystery.

"Did you know her? Celine Fournier?"

"I'm sorry. I did not."

Something about his tone made her suspect he was lying. He'd answered far too quickly and seemed quite keen to change the subject. Belle decided to push him. At the very least she would get a better read on his motives for walking her back.

"Maybe you knew my father? I don't know his first name, but I was told that Fournier was my mother's married name."

Gaston sighed and shook his head. Once again it was a little too quickly for Belle to believe him.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I don't know anyone by that surname."

Trying to hide her disappointment, she took the basket back from him as they arrived at steps of the orphanage.

"Will I see you again, Belle?"

Belle shrugged then shook her head. "I doubt it. We don't get very many opportunities to leave. The girls don't, anyway. The boys to go school, but they come back right after. Madam Rouchard says staying inside will keep us safe."

"Safe from what?" Gaston scoffed as he took an appraising look at the building that had been Belle's home for that past thirteen years.

"From the world, I guess." When Gaston did not bid her goodnight, she took the initiative. "Have a good evening, Monsieur LeFevre. And thank you again for helping."

"It was my pleasure, Mademoiselle Fournier. Until we meet again." And with that, he took her hand, causing her to drop the basket by her feet. Luckily none of its contents slipped out of it. He kissed the top of her hand and bid her goodnight before turning back in the direction they'd come.

Belle stared after him. Had that really just happened? Was he really as nice as he seemed? Why had he acted like the name Fournier meant nothing to him?

She did not have time to contemplate her questions further, because when she turned to step through the front doors she came face to face with Madam Rouchard.


	3. Chapter Two

**When the Petal Falls  
**

* * *

 **Summery:** Maurice works for Prince Adam at the castle to support his wife and young daughter. He is cursed with the rest of the castle when the Enchantress crashes the party, unable to return to his family. Soon after his wife succumbs to her sickness and passes away. Belle is placed in an orphanage for the next thirteen years, until she runs away in search of a father she barely remembers. She vows to find him and bring him home, but she gets more than she bargained for when she stumbles upon a lonely castle surrounded by winter.

 **A/N:** I am loving the response to this story! I'm so glad everyone seems to be enjoying it. This chapter is a turning point of sorts, and I'm really excited about the future chapters because the action will pick up. It was necessary to paint a picture of the misery Belle is currently experiencing because then you can see her motives. I hope you read and enjoy and as always, let me know what you think!

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

"You little trollop," sneered Madam Rouchard as she closed and locked the door behind her. "So that is why you were late. Sauntering around town with a lover like some common whore."

Belle's face flushed red. "He is not my lover, and we were not sauntering around town. He merely helped me finish the laundry and walked me back. That is all."

The sneer on the matron's face grew wider at Belle's words. "Why else would such a handsome man help a lowly orphan with the laundry? Surely not out of the goodness of his heart."

"I don't know, madam," Belle said through gritted teeth. She wanted to say more, but knew arguing further would only make her seem guiltier than she already appeared. It was better just to stay silent.

"Louise said you were daydreaming again. Keeping your head in the clouds instead of on your task. Now I know why. Perhaps I should accompany you next time. Maybe that would help you focus."

Belle bit her tongue to keep herself from spitting out the words she longed to say. They both knew she would do no such thing.

Unexpectedly, Madam Rouchard grabbed the basket out of Belle's hands and dumped its contents on the floor by her feet. "You will do _all_ the laundry yourself tomorrow. Louise will go with you, but she is not to help you. She will have my full permission to use whatever means she deems necessary for you to complete it all in a timely manner. Even if it means a public flogging."

"Yes, madam," Belle replied, forcing herself to meet the other woman's gaze. She would not appear frightened. She wouldn't give the matron the satisfaction.

As though she were spurned on by Belle's sudden bravery, she added, "There will be no meals until the laundry is completed to my liking. You will also spend the night in the basement so you can reflect on your sins without interruption. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, madam," Belle spat. She narrowed her eyes defiantly, but Madam Rouchard didn't appear to have noticed. Not that it mattered. This would hardly be the first time Belle had spent the night in the basement, and she very much doubted it would be the last.

"Well, since there is no need for you to put the laundry away or have dinner, you can go ahead to the basement. You can use the time for added reflection."

Belle sighed as she followed Madam Rouchard down the hall toward the staircase that lead down to the basement. As they passed the door to the library, she couldn't help but gaze at it longingly. There would be no reading in the morning, as there was no way to sneak out of the basement. She would just have to bide her time with her imaginings instead.

The basement was a large, gloomy place that smelled of must and sweat. There was no source of light, so it was left in perpetual darkness except for the rare occasion when Madam Rouchard permitted the use of a candle. Seeing as she hadn't brought one down with her, it seemed Belle was in for a long, dark night.

Madam Rouchard held the door open for Belle, who stepped inside with as much dignity as she could muster. She felt like she was entering the cell of a prison. All that was missing were bars on the door.

"I'll fetch you first thing in the morning. If you are not ready you will do the laundry with a freshly whipped back. Do you understand?"

"Yes, madam."

"Well then, have a good night."

And with that, the matron slammed the door shut, the unmistakable sound of a lock echoing in the cavernous space. Belle was left alone in the dark with nothing else to do but dwell on the events of the day. Her mind drifted back to Gaston. As much as he annoyed her, she found she was somewhat intrigued by him.

Why had he seemed to recognize her surname? Even if he denied it, she sensed the lie in his eyes, tone of voice, and body language. She hoped she saw him again, if only to demand answers. She would make up some excuse to Louise. Even if she had to seek him out, she needed to know more about her family.

She didn't know how much time had passed in the darkness. Time had a strange way of disappearing in the basement, with only her thoughts for company. By the time she'd finally allowed herself to slump to the floor her stomach rumbled uncomfortably and the room had grown steadily colder. It would have been too much for Madam Rouchard to leave her a blanket. She loved seeing her charges as miserable as possible.

She drew herself in as much as possible on the stone cold floor and tried to suppress her shivering as she closed her eyes, the events of the day replaying in her mind.

Though she didn't remember doing so, she must have fallen asleep, for the next thing she knew a harsh voice snapped at her. "Get up. It's time for you to go."

Madam Rouchard stood in the open entryway. Belle reflexively closed her eyes at the sudden onslaught of light. From the burning beneath her eyelids, she knew she couldn't have gotten more than a couple hours of sleep. Her stomach rumbled again but she didn't dare inquire about breakfast because she knew the matron would keep to her word about no meals until she'd completed the laundry satisfactorily.

She reluctantly followed Madam Rouchard back upstairs, unable to help glancing into the dining hall as they passed. The others were finishing up their breakfast. From the smell, it must have been scrambled egg day.

Pushing aside her hunger as best she could, she quickly used the bathroom in the foyer then met Madam Rouchard, who had stopped in the entryway and indicated the two waiting baskets overflowing with clothes and linens. Belle gazed wearily at them. She must've stuffed them with every single garment in the building.

Belle knew without having to be told that she was to pick the baskets up. Louise met them a moment later, wearing a clean dress and looking properly fed. She regarded Belle with a callous expression and a cold smile.

"Louise, you are not to help her in anyway," Madam Rouchard began, speaking about Belle as though she were not there. "If you feel that she is falling behind you have my permission to use whatever means you find necessary to get her back on task. Do you have any questions?"

"No, madam," Louise replied. It was clear enough to Belle that the other girl was enjoying this immensely.

"Since she cannot carry the two baskets at the same time by herself, you will have to take one. Apart from that, Belle is to do everything herself." Madam Rouchard turned to face Belle, her face nothing short of murderous. She leaned in close so that only Belle could hear. "You are not to return unless you have finished. If you come back with linens that are anything other than spotless, you will no longer be welcome. I have reached my limit with your whimsicalness. You are everything a lady should not be despite my best efforts to raise you right. You will no longer burden me or my charges any longer if you do not change your ways. Do I make myself clear?"

Belle kept silent, glaring at the matron defiantly.

Madam Rouchard raised her eyebrows in surprise, thought the expression quickly twisted into one of malice. When she spoke again she enunciated each syllable dramatically, her voice nothing more than a dangerous whisper. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, _madam,"_ Belle spat the last word sarcastically, unable to help herself.

If Madam Rouchard noticed, she pretended not to. She drew herself back to her full height and opened the door. Belle stepped out first, wanting nothing more than to kick the basket as hard as she could across the cobbled street. Louise was right on her heels. As soon as they were both outside the door slammed loudly behind them.

"You heard her," Louise barked. "Get a move on."

The walk to the fountain was nothing short of unpleasant. Louise kicked the backs of Belle's shins a few times, though Belle maintained a brisk pace. The last time she kicked her Belle nearly turned around to kick her right back, but thought better of it at the last moment. She needed to pick her battles, and letting Louise get the best of her so soon would only make her day all the worse.

When they arrived at the fountain Louise dumped her basket by Belle's feet then sat down on the edge of the wall, sneering at her. "Get to work."

Belle bit back the retort she longed to say as she kneeled down to gather the first of the dirty clothing. It was dull, mindless work, but as much as she longed to escape into the stories in her head, she didn't dare with Louise watching her every move. She knew the other girl was waiting for an opportunity to punish her. With Madam Rouchard's permission to act as vicious as possible toward her, Belle knew Louise wouldn't miss her chance.

Belle only spared quick moments to search the surrounding area for Gaston. Monsieur LeFevre said he ran the local pub, which must mean that he was a predominant figure in town. Belle wondered vaguely why she'd never seen him before during her rare outings, but supposed it was due to the fact that she'd never set foot in the pub.

"You're losing focus, Belle." Louise's harsh words were punctuated by a kick to the stomach. Belle cursed herself for letting her thoughts get the better of her as she keeled over. She held in her groan of pain, acting as though the painful kick had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

Belle forced herself not to think about Gaston, her family, or anything other than the laundry as she got to her feet. As much as she didn't want to give Louise or Madam Rouchard the satisfaction of knowing they'd had any effect on her, she knew she couldn't afford to lose focus. As much as she hated her life at the orphanage, she didn't have anywhere else to go, or any means to support herself. For now, it wa her only option.

The rest of the day was spent in a rhythm of washing, drying, and hanging. The process was repeated countless times. Louise had only kicked her one other time, and from her sullen expression, Belle knew she was disappointed that she hadn't been able to kick her more.

Belle's brow was covered in sweat by sunset, and her stomach twisted in hunger. She wished she had some water, but didn't bother asking for some. Short of stopping into Gaston's pub or begging the residents of a random house, there was no means of getting any until they were back at Madam Rouchard's.

Belle was just about to follow Louise back to the orphanage when a familiar voice called out to her.

"Mademoiselle Belle! What a surprise."

Gaston had arrived at the fountain, his dark eyes darting between Belle and Louise. Louise stared at Gaston suspiciously before turning her gaze to Belle. "How do you know this man?"

"We…" Belle began, but was interrupted by Gaston, who seemed only too pleased to offer an explanation.

"We met yesterday. I helped her finish the laundry and walked her back home. I see today, at least, she has some company."

Louise dropped her basket as though it had suddenly burned her. "You…you two met yesterday?"

Comprehension seemed to dawn on Louise, and Belle saw the plan forming in her mind with mounting horror. "Now I see why you were late! Madam Rouchard was right about you. Not only are you a fool with dreams of rising beyond your station, but a harlot as well! I should have known. I'm going back to report you! You'll be kicked out for sure!"

"No! Louise, it's not what you think!" Belle hastened to explain, but Louise had already taken off, leaving the basket behind.

"What was that about?" Gaston demanded, but Belle barely heard him as she took off after Louise, abandoning her own basket.

She could hear Gaston calling out to her, but he give chase. The last thing Belle needed was for him to follow her back to Madam Rouchard's for a second time, furthering the lie in both the matron's and Louise's minds.

"Louise, please! You've got it wrong!" Belle desperately tried to call out to her, but Louise was too far away to hear.

By the time Belle arrived back at the orphanage both Louise and Madam Rouchard were standing on the front steps. Both had their arms crossed and regarded Belle coldly.

"I see my suspicions about you are confirmed," Madam Rouchard began once Belle had stopped in front of them. "And right in front of Louise. I suppose you couldn't wait to get it on with him. Such unbecoming behavior."

"Please, madam. You've got it wrong. Gaston only helped yesterday, and when he saw me again today he stopped to say hello. That's it!"

"I told you before. Why would a man want to help a woman with laundry if he didn't have some type of ulterior motive? A smart girl like you should know that. Though it no longer matters. After tomorrow you will no longer be my problem."

Belle's stomach plummeted. "You mean…"

"That's right. You will come of age in a few months so the authorities will not question why you are not under my roof. What use do I have for a girl who cannot follow simple instructions, and tromps around town with a man like some harlot? Who knows? Maybe you can find work at the whorehouse down the road. Lord knows enough of the girls who leave here do. You can spend the night, but you leave first thing."

Belle opened her mouth to argue further, but thought better of it and nodded instead, knowing she'd only be wasting her breath.

She followed Louise inside and ran up to her room. The other girls were inside but she paid them no attention as she threw herself on her small bed. She wanted to look as defeated as possible so the others would not disturb her. Not that they ever sought her out for conversation.

Louise entered the bedroom moments later. Belle heard them crowd around her, questioning what had happened at the fountain. She knew Louise took great pleasure in relaying the story to them, savoring the part where she announced that Belle had been kicked out.

"Serves her right, the trollop," Ellen's voice said.

"She got what was coming to her," Sabina added.

"I won't be sorry to see her go," Agnes put in bitterly.

"Maybe our next roommate will actually be useful instead of spending all of her time daydreaming," Louise said as she pushed past the other girls and sat down on her bed.

The five other girls spent the rest of the night gossiping over Belle's gloomy prospects. They all seemed to decide that Belle's only option was the whorehouse, especially since she'd gotten the attention of the most notorious lady's man in Villeneuve. Belle longed for them to go to sleep so that she could get up and prepare for her departure. She had no intention of waiting until morning. Madam Rouchard would take great pleasure in making Belle's exit as dramatic and humiliating as possible.

It must've been after midnight when the girls' voices finally went quiet. There was some rustling then the shuffling of sheets and the squeak of the bed springs as Belle's roommates settled in to sleep.

Belle waited a few minutes in order to make sure they would not wake up before she pushed herself out of the bed. She stretched her aching muscles that resulted from lying in the same position for so long then went to the bathroom. When she returned to the bedroom she pulled out a bag and began stuffing her meager belongings inside. The act did not take long; she only possessed one change of clothing, another pair of shoes, and a picture book that was the only thing she had of her mother. She always kept it under her mattress for fear that the other girls would discover it and destroy it. She forced herself to pack it with everything else instead of rifling through it because she could not afford for the other girls to wake up and discover her.

When she finished packing she hurried downstairs to the kitchen to gather some food from the kitchen. It was all she could do not to stuff as much food in her mouth as she could. She limited herself to one piece of stale bread then packed another five slices, an apple, a banana, and a square block of cheese. Once that was done, she debated going into the library for some books, but reluctantly decided against it. As much as she longed to fill her bag with as many books as possible, she did not need the added weight. She had no idea where she was going, so she would need the extra space for any additional necessities she happened to find.

Belle only spared one final appraising look around the lower level of the orphanage, knowing that it would be the last time she would ever call it home. It only held unpleasant memories for her so she wasn't sorry to leave. She was only sorry that she had to leave all her favorite books behind.

With a heavy sight, she turned on her heel, opened the door, and stepped outside into the chilly night.

She may not know where she was going, but she knew what she was going to do. She believed wholeheartedly that her father was out there somewhere, and that Gaston knew something about her family. She set off in the direction of the pub, her bag clutched tightly in her hand, and promised herself that she would not leave until she got answers out of Gaston LeFevre, one way or another.


	4. Chapter Three

**When the Petal Falls  
**

* * *

 **Summary:** Maurice works for Prince Adam at the castle to support his wife and young daughter. He is cursed with the rest of the castle when the Enchantress crashes the party, unable to return to his family. Soon after his wife succumbs to her sickness and passes away. Belle is placed in an orphanage for the next thirteen years, until she runs away in search of a father she barely remembers. She vows to find him and bring him home, but she gets more than she bargained for when she stumbles upon a lonely castle surrounded by winter.

 **A/N:** I am so glad everyone seems to be enjoying this. You have no idea what that means. Thanks to Guest who clarified a dumb spelling mistake on my part. This chapter was so much fun to write! It's where things start to get interesting! Also, Maurice makes his appearance next chapter, which will hopefully be up soon. We will finally see more characters other than Belle and Gaston. As always, let me know what you think! It's much appreciated.

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

Belle expected freedom to feel liberating, but so far all she felt was desperation. Desperation to get out of the empty street, desperation to find Gaston and demand answers from him and, most of all, desperation to find out the truth about her father. Whether he was dead or alive, she had to know. She needed the truth in order to move on with her life.

Gaston had said he ran the local pub, so Belle decided that she would go there first. It was as good a place as any to start. Where else did she have to go?

The walk to the pub did not take long. She switched her bag from one hand to the other every so often in order to ward off the fatigue she knew would soon come. It was late and she had forced herself to stay awake in order to make her escape before morning. She needed to find Gaston soon, if only to find some shelter for the night. She only hoped he wouldn't take it the wrong way if she asked to stay the night at his home.

It was easy enough to find Gaston's pub. It was the only noisy building in the entire village. She winced at the unmistakable sound of glass breaking and fists colliding with flesh. Every so often someone would scream or shout out, then the sounds of more fighting would follow. Belle walked cautiously to the door, half expecting someone to come flying out of it.

After straightening the blue dress she'd worn for nearly forty-eight hours, she cautiously reached out with her hand and twisted the doorknob to open the door.

What greeted her was nearly enough to make her turn back around.

Villagers were punching each other, throwing up in corners, lobbing pint glasses into the air, or otherwise passed out on the floor or at overturned tables. Belle could only marvel at the scene around her. How could Gaston tolerate such behavior?

It was easy enough to spot him. The man in question stood calmly behind the bar, drying a bar glass with what once must have been a clean towel, completely ignoring the sight around him. His gaze passed over Belle for a moment before focusing back on her. When he recognized her he instantly raised an arm and called, "Belle!"

She took a deep breath then cautiously made her way to the bar, careful to step around the passed out people on the floor. She heaved her bag over her shoulder, which Gaston noticed at once.

"What a pleasant surprise! I didn't expect to see you here. Are you going somewhere?"

"Yes," Belle replied. She set the bag on the ground at her feet as she regarded Gaston. His eyes were wide and hopeful as he stared at her. "I left Madam Rouchard's. I only came here to ask you about my father."

"Your father?" Gaston's smile faltered, and he casually went back to drying the glass he'd already dried perfectly. "Why do you think I know anything about him? I only met you yesterday, after all."

"I know," Belle replied as casually as she could. She took a seat on one of the barstools and regarded him carefully. "But when I mentioned my surname, you seemed to recognize it. All I want to know is how you know it."

"I already told you, I do not know anyone by the name of Fournier, other than you."

"But when I mentioned Celine Fournier, you looked as though the name were familiar to you. As it appears to again right now," she pointed out. Gaston had reacted very subtly, but there was no mistaking it this time. "All I want are answers, Monsieur LeFevre. Then I'll be on my way."

For one long moment, Belle and Gaston only stared at each other. Both seemed determined not to be the first to look away. In the end, Gaston sighed in resignation and put the glass down again.

"Okay, Mademoiselle Fournier," he began, putting on a formal air that Belle did not care for. It didn't suit him. "As a matter of fact, I did know your mother. She used to watch over me whenever my parents could not. Only her name was Celine Beaumont back then."

"So Fournier was not her maiden name?" She had heard that once from Madam Rouchard, but she had not seemed to know for certain.

Gaston nodded uncomfortably. "I do not know how she came to have that name. If she married someone, I do not know anything about him. It was as though one day she was Celine Beaumont, and the next she was Celine Fournier with a little baby. I was only a lad at the time so perhaps it's possible I never learned what happened to him."

He paused and regarded Belle in what she could only call pity. She looked away, not wanting any pity from this man. She had a feeling she knew what he was about to say next.

"I'm sorry to say this, but the most logical explanation is that he is dead. What other answer could there be? If he ran off on you and your mother, she would have abandoned his name in order to marry someone else. But she kept it. It does not take an expert to figure out what happened." He reached out a hand, no doubt wanting to console her, but she pulled away and shot out of her seat as though it had suddenly caught on fire.

"No. I refuse to believe that. If my father did die, why can't anyone remember him? Madam Rouchard did not know him. You do not know him. A man by the name of Fournier would be remembered. Villeneuve is not a large town."

"Belle, be reasonable," Gaston put in, losing his sympathetic tone. "I understand that you want to find him. But there just isn't anything to find. You said you came to be at the orphanage when you were, what, four?"

Belle reluctantly nodded, glaring at him.

"And you are a young woman now. Why would your father stay away all this time? From what I can remember of your mother, she was beautiful, kind, and gentle. Much like you. No self-respecting man would turn his back on someone like that."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Belle demanded. "Complimenting my mother and ridiculing my father at the same time?"

"Belle, I didn't…"

"Maybe my father found trouble. Maybe that is why he never came back. Maybe he lost his way and is unable to come home. Has anyone considered that?" she snapped angrily.

Gaston gave her a look much like someone would give a child who believed that the sky was purple. "Perhaps. But deep down, you know that isn't the case."

"How do you know? You don't know the first thing about me."

"I know that it is late, and you don't have anywhere to go," Gaston said, causing Belle's face to go beet red. "Why don't you come upstairs with me and get a good night's sleep. You look like you could use it."

Despite the fact that Belle had earlier planned on asking him just what he'd offered, the stubborn part of her wanted to decline. It was obvious he didn't believe that her father was still alive, and she did not want to spend time with someone who tried talking her out of her last hope.

But she did have to admit that she was exhausted.

"This doesn't mean I agree with you," Belle warned him as she reached down to pick up the bag at her feet.

"Of course not," Gaston soothed. It only brought up a desire in her to hit him. "I'll take you upstairs to my flat. You can change and sleep in my bed if you'd like. I'll take the floor. I'll just close up down here, then be upstairs before you know it."

 _As if I need his presence to feel safe,_ Belle thought bitterly, but kept her thoughts to herself as he led her up the narrow staircase to the flat above the pub.

He quickly showed her where the lavatory and bedroom were, then disappeared back downstairs.

Belle silently changed into her nightdress, brushed her teeth, then ventured inside Gaston's bedroom.

From the little she knew of Gaston's reputation, she supposed she should've felt privileged to find herself in his bedroom. All she could feel was disgust. It was nothing special. There was only a small bed in the corner with unmade white sheets, an old nightstand beside it with an oil lamp resting on top. The square window was closed, and the shutters blocked out the view from outside. She turned her gaze away from the window and regarded the bed uncertainly. The state of the sheets certainly left something to be desired, and she did not want Gaston to get any ideas if he found her asleep in his bed. But the floor hardly served as a good substitute.

He did say he would take the floor. And if he _did_ try anything, she would fight him and leave.

Making up her mind, she forced herself on the bed. His scent was all over the sheets. She tucked herself in anyway, wanting to shield as much of herself as possible for when he returned.

Belle did not know how much time passed, but eventually his heavy footsteps filled the otherwise empty room. Her heartbeat picked up speed as she heard the door to the bedroom creak open. She braced herself, almost expecting him to pry the sheets away from her.

Fortunately, nothing happened.

Belle listened as he settled himself on the floor, and bit her lip to keep from laughing as he let out an audible groan. Whether it was from finally getting off his feet or with discomfort at having to sleep on the floor, Belle did not know.

As much as she hadn't wanted to, she knew she eventually drifted off to sleep because the next thing she knew, sunlight was peeking in between the closed shutters.

She got out of bed and gathered her things so she could change in the bathroom. She longed for a bath, but did not want to be caught in such a vulnerable state if he happened to wake up.

After quickly changing, Belle peeked into the bedroom one final time to make sure that Gaston still slept soundly. Content that he wasn't going to wake up, she tiptoed down to the pub, which was a far cry from that state it was in when she'd first arrived. She hadn't gotten any satisfactory answers from him, but she was more determined than ever to find him. The feeling that her father was out there was stronger than ever. Though Belle did not know the first place to start, she figured she might as well venture into the woods. She would not get the answers she sought in Villeneuve.

The woods surrounding Villeneuve looked nothing short of daunting. Even in the breaking dawn of morning, the trees looked dangerous and full of adventure. She knew that anywhere she went would require a trip into the woods. If her father had left town for whatever reason, he would've had to pass through the woods. It was the next logical step.

As Belle stepped outside and stopped at the edge of the woods, she pulled out one of her five slices of bread and ate slowly as she regarded the forest.

She searched it appraisingly for any sign of danger, though it was useless because any danger she was likely to find would be in the heart of the woods, not the outskirts.

The best time to leave was when everyone was still home in bed. The day would start soon, and Belle wanted to be as far away from Villeneuve as possible, just in case Madam Rouchard decided to search for her. It was unlikely, though not impossible. Belle would not have put it past her to send a search party to bring her back to the orphanage just to give her the humiliating exit she had so obviously hoped for.

Before she could talk herself out of it, Belle entered the woods. The only sounds came from the chirping of the birds and her footsteps. As hard as she tried, she could not make herself completely silent. She would most likely be an easy target for the wolves and other predators that called the forest home, but she didn't want to make it easy for them to find her.

As the day wore on, Belle's feet became pained and the knawing hunger in her stomach only grew. She longed to pull out more food from her meager rations, but she knew she needed to stretch them out for as long as possible. She did not know how to hunt, and thus far she had not been able to spot any source of sustenance, whether it be fruit or berries. It was as though the woods wanted to make her journey as difficult as possible.

The only way Belle was able to mark the time was by the sun's position in the sky. She'd read enough books about time and the weather, and had taught herself that noon was when the sky was directly above her head. As that had come and gone, she knew that by the time she heard the first howl of the wolves in the distance, it was well into the afternoon.

Her heart picked up speed as the howling grew steadily louder. It grew closer the further she walked. Belle knew she would have to find somewhere to take shelter for the night, but she didn't know how she would find it because so far she hadn't found anything that would provide cover against the predators that would begin to come out. All she knew was that she needed to find it soon.

The next howl that broke the otherwise silent night air seemed to come from mere feet away. Belle gazed frantically around her, her heart clenching painfully as she spotted the wolf in the distance. It locked its gaze on her and wasted no time in howling to its companions.

Belle didn't hesitate. She broke into a run, dodging trees, fallen branches, and rocks. The wolves were right behind her. She couldn't bring herself to turn around so she didn't know how many of them chased her, but from the sounds of the running it could not have been less than five.

Belle felt like crying. She had no idea how long she'd been running. Her legs felt like lead and her muscles felt like they were going to give out at any moment. She was just about to succumb to her fate when she spotted the gate in front of her swing open.

 _Where had that gate come from?_ She couldn't help but wonder as she all but fell into the area the gate surrounded. She pulled her foot away just as the lead wolf was about to snap its jaws around it. As she pulled herself further away from the gate, she noticed astonishingly that the wolves were not crossing the gate. It was as though there was an invisible wall that they would not pass.

Her amazement grew when the gate clanged shut of its own accord, locking the wolves out of what she realized with a start were grounds. She was on the vast grounds of an enormous castle.

 _A castle in the middle of the woods?_ Belle pulled herself to her feet, and when she took a moment to catch her breath, she realized that these weren't just any grounds, but grounds covered in snow. But that was not possible. It did not snow in June.

 _What is this place?_ She wondered as she cautiously made her way to the castle. At the very least, it would serve as shelter for the night. Belle was not keen to return into the wolf-infested wood so soon after just escaping them.

Despite the mysterious snow covering the grounds, it was clear to tell that they had once been very well cared for. The hedges were trimmed and rootless. The castle was not rusting or deteriorating. It was, for lack of a better word, beautiful.

Belle walked up the landing to the castle, imaging that it had once played host to many a glamorous party. But why was it here, and why did no one seem to know about it?

She let herself take a moment to marvel at the sheer beauty of the landscaping and architecture of the castle then raised a shaking hand to knock on the door.

Nothing happened.

She knocked again, that time a little harder. After a few moments it opened just wide enough for her to step inside.

She did so, grateful to be out of the cold. She was just about to turn and offer her thanks to her host, but to her astonishment, no one was there.

"Hello?" Belle called out, hating the note of fear in her voice. "Is anyone there?"

What sounded like muffled voices instantly broke the silence. Belle strained her ears, but it was impossible to determine just where the voices came from.

"Who's there?" she asked, the echo of her voice reverberating throughout the massive entryway. "I only seek shelter for the night. I do not mean any harm."

The voices grew louder, but it was still impossible to tell where they came from. Belle looked around warily. If it weren't for the voices, she would have thought the place was abandoned. The furniture looked as though it hadn't been used in some time, and the amount of dust coating every visible surface had to be at least several inches thick. Belle swiped a finger over the candleholder on the wall beside her, finding it coated in dust. She didn't want to think about how many years the castle had been left uncared for.

The voices continued. Belle followed them as best she could, though it was difficult because of the elaborate layout of the castle's interior. The wide hallway was so massive that she couldn't take more than two steps without coming upon a door.

Finally, she narrowed down the room in which the disembodied voices seemed to come from. Without thinking, she threw open the door, hoping to catch the voices' owners unaware, only to find it empty.

"Who's there?" she demanded, convinced that someone was playing some kind of joke on her. "I know you're there."

But the only things in the room with her were a candelabra and a mantel clock resting on top of a large mahogany table.

Belle stepped carefully in their direction and peered at them suspiciously. Maybe it was the stressful events of the past two days, but she could've sworn both had small slits where a mouth would be…

Her further inquiries were brought to an abrupt halt by the sudden growling behind her. She whipped around and instantly regretted it.

Towering over her, its unnaturally blue eyes fixed dangerously upon her, was an enormous beast.


	5. Chapter Four

**When the Petal Falls  
**

* * *

 **Summary:** Maurice works for Prince Adam at the castle to support his wife and young daughter. He is cursed with the rest of the castle when the Enchantress crashes the party, unable to return to his family. Soon after his wife succumbs to her sickness and passes away. Belle is placed in an orphanage for the next thirteen years, until she runs away in search of a father she barely remembers. She vows to find him and bring him home, but she gets more than she bargained for when she stumbles upon a lonely castle surrounded by winter.

 **A/N:** Once again, thank you so much to everyone who has read, reviewed, and/or added this story to favorites/alerts. This chapter we finally see Maurice again! This was definitely my favorite chapter to write so far! We're finally getting to the heart of the story and I cannot wait to share it with you! Please enjoy and let me know what you think.

* * *

 **Chapter Four**

Belle could only stare as the beast leaned his massive head back and let out an almighty roar that seemed to shake the very foundation of the castle. She closed her eyes and winced at the onslaught of saliva that found its way to her face. She waited until the roaring had ceased before daring to raise a hand to wipe the saliva away, not wanting to set him off again. The beast panted heavily as he towered over her.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?"

The words, deep and menacing though they were, came as somewhat of a surprise to her. Were beasts able to talk?

"I…I only seek shelter for the night," Belle replied, her voice unwavering despite the fear building up inside her. "The wolves…"

"The wolves will not hurt you if you show no fear," the beast cut in coldly, stomping around her in an appraising sort of way that made Belle feel as though he could see right through her, down into her soul. "Leave. Now."

"I'm sorry, sir," Belle interjected, resisting the urge to cross her arms in order to hide herself from his scrutiny. "I meant no harm. I only need one night then I'll be on my way. Please."

"There is no room here. You cannot stay," the beast repeated as he continued to circle her like a predator stalking prey. "Take your things and go."

"But…you live in a castle," Belle pointed out hesitantly, gesturing around her. "Surely you can spare one room."

The beast stopped abruptly, as though he'd just run into an invisible wall. "If you insist. I do have one room you can have."

Then, moving so quickly that Belle did not fully realize it right away, he grabbed her upper right arm in a vice-like grip and began dragging her out of the room.

"Please, sir!" she exclaimed, but her pleading fell on deaf ears as the beast continued to drag her down the corridor, finally arriving at a large marble staircase.

"I am no sir, as you surely must have known the moment you first set eyes on me," the beast growled as they made their way up the staircase. Belle opened her mouth to argue further, but thought better of it and closed it again. It seemed thus far that she and the beast were the only beings in the castle, so even if she screamed it would do no good. She would have to figure a way out of her predicament on her own.

That task suddenly proved more difficult when the pair arrived at their destination moments later. Belle's stomach plummeted from her chest to her stomach at the sight of the circular tower full of cells. The stone staircases seemed to go on forever, none of them with handrails, making it easier for someone to plummet to his or her death. Each step they took echoed what felt like hundreds of times against the brick walls of the tower. Belle had never seen such a miserable place, and hoped that she never would again.

The beast brought her to a cell near the top of their staircase and pulled on a lever on the side of the barred door, causing it to swing open.

"This shall be the room you so desired," the beast snarled, and indicated with an extensive paw for her to enter.

Belle looked from the beast to the cell, unsure if he was serious about her to enter. However, it didn't take long for her to realize that she truly was to go inside because the beast gestured again, that time more impatiently.

As the door clanged shut behind her, the beast said in a sarcastically sweet tone, "I hope it is to your liking."

Then, before she could say another word, he stormed back down the way they'd come, leaving her alone in her cell.

* * *

Maurice watched from the small closet as the master pulled a young woman down the corridor. He spent most of his days in the closet with the rest of the junk. At first, just after the curse had been placed on the inhabitants of the castle, he'd hidden because he was ashamed of what had become of him, though it had hardly been his fault. Later he hid because he did not want to see any reminders of how much time had passed since that fateful night.

He did not like to think of what had become of Celine and Belle. His wife had been overcome with sickness just before the curse. It filled him up with dread every time he thought about what must have happened. Though it was possible that his precious wife had gotten better, either on her own or through medicine brought by the doctor, it was much more likely that the sickness had progressed. And with their daughter being much too young to care for her…

Maurice was never able to finish that thought. If he were honest with himself, that was the real reason he spent his days in the closet. He couldn't stand the thought of looking at Prince Adam, knowing that he was the reason he'd been separated from Celine and Belle all these years. It was the prince's selfishness and cruelty that cursed the entire castle. The blame for his wife and daughter's fates rested solely on his shoulders. And Maurice could stand the sight of him because of it.

However, the unexpected sight of a stranger in the castle inspired him into action. He balanced himself on his stiff, thin body, wishing for about the millionth time that he still had arms and legs. Hopping on the end of the pitchfork that he had become still felt demeaning after all this time.

Maurice always left the door to the closet slightly ajar in case he ever desired to leave. Opening and closing it without hands had proven difficult on many occasions, so most of the time he left it open to save himself the trouble.

He eased through the doorway without incident then hopped to the last room at the end of the corridor where Lumiere and Cogsworth spent their days. That had been the room where the girl had gone before the master dragged her away, so if anyone knew what was going on, it would be them.

Both looked unsurprised when Maurice entered. He stopped at the foot of the table where they rested and looked up.

"Why, if it isn't Monsieur Fournier, come out of his closet at last," Lumiere announced formally, gesticulating grandly with both arms of his candelabra body. "What brings you out on a marvelous day like this?"

"Who was that the master took up to the tower?" Maurice asked, wishing he could also gesticulate, but the pitchfork was not known for being pliable. He was lucky if he could move around without falling on his face.

"A girl," Lumiere replied knowingly. "A girl has arrived at last."

"What are you blathering on about?" Maurice demanded impatiently. He'd barely had patience for the young man's wild aspersions when they were human. Now he hardly had the patience to tolerate them at all.

"The girl who can break the spell," Lumiere replied patiently, hopping off the table and sweeping Maurice up in as much of a hug as he was able. "She has come at last."

Maurice struggled out of the candelabra's grip, only to fall over on the floor. As he attempted to bring himself back to an upright position he heard a hefty groan, then the sound of something heavy crashing to the ground. Cogsworth had joined them on the floor.

"Don't get ahead of yourself," the clock that had once been an old man warned them as he dusted himself off with as much dignity as he could muster. "We don't know this girl is the one. From the sounds of it, she merely lost her way in the woods and stumbled upon the castle by mistake. Undoubtedly she will be on her way first thing in the morning."

"Do not be so sure of that, old friend," Lumiere warned. "Fate has a way of bringing what is most needed in the most surprising of ways. I believe this is our chance at last. All we need to do is charm the girl and convince the master that she is the one to break the spell."

"Oh, is that all?" Cogsworth put in sarcastically. "And how do you propose we do that? Need I remind you that the master took her up to the tower. We can barely move from one room to the next."

"Patience, old friend." Lumiere made a move that resembled a shrug as he strode over to the door. "Rome was not built in a day. Besides, I have a plan."

When they arrived at the door, Lumiere and Cogsworth turned to face Maurice, who had pulled himself slowly back to standing and stared at them incredulously. "Are you coming?"

Maurice hesitated only for a moment, before deciding that his curiosity would not be sated until he saw the girl for himself. He hopped along with them and followed the pair back out into the large corridor.

Their progress was steady but slow going. Maurice had not left the closet in some time, so moving felt strange and awkward, but he managed not to fall down.

The trio stopped once they reached the foot of the staircases, glancing at each other uncertainly. It was Lumiere who broke the silence. "Well, no time like the present."

Lumiere and Cogsworth went first, due more to the fact that they had legs then from any sort of bravery. Maurice followed, making sure his pace remained steady. If we stumbled to the ground, he did not think he would have the strength to try again.

The effort was slow, but they eventually made it to the first landing. They allowed themselves a few minutes to rest, preferring not to speak in order to preserve what little strength they had left, before they began the next trek.

The spiraling staircase that led to the cells lingered ominously in front of them, but their curiosity at the unexpected visitor and their desire to end the curse kept them going. Unfortunately, they were brought to an abrupt halt by the intrusion of Prince Adam. His imposing figure was never any less frightening to Maurice, mostly due to his time spent alone in the closet. He avoided the company of the beast Prince Adam had turned into whenever possible.

"Ah, hello, Master," Lumiere began, somewhat awkwardly. "We were just about to inquire about the girl in the castle."

"She will be on her way first thing in the morning, and therefore is none of your concern," Adam snapped, his dark tone full of warning.

"Of course, Master, of course," Lumiere agreed hastily. "It's just, as our guest, mightn't it be prudent to, ah, offer her a more comfortable room?"

The beast turned to the three of them, his lip curling dangerously. Maurice knew from experience that pushing the issue would not end well for any of them, including the girl. "And why would that be? Whether for a day or a year, this whole castle is a prison, no matter which room one lives in."

And with that, the master stormed off, the tatters of his clothing billowing behind him.

"Well," Lumiere began tentatively, "he did not say no."

"What?" Cogsworth asked, sounding worried. "You don't mean you're actually going to move her _out_ of that cell?"

"That remains to be seen, Cogsworth," Lumiere replied as he started the journey up to the cell tower. "After all, we have yet to speak to the girl. But I have hope that she is the one. And if the master refuses to see it, then it is up to us."

Maurice and Cogsworth followed him, both knowing better than to argue. They knew that once Lumiere made up his mind about something, it was impossible to dissuade him.

* * *

Belle felt as though she were back in the basement of the orphanage. Both were cold, gloomy, and very dark. She shivered, but she had nothing to ward against the chill. She cursed herself for her foolishness. Why had she thought it a good idea to ask for sanctuary from a creature such as that? There had been no mercy in those cold blue eyes. Only contempt.

 _At least I am away from the wolves,_ she tried to console herself, but it was a small consolation. She'd merely run from one dangerous situation to the next.

How long did he intend to keep her here? He had made it quite clear that she was an uninvited guest, but had he meant she was only to stay the night? The thought of going back into that wolf-infested wood so soon did not appeal to her in the slightest, but she was not convinced that to stay in the castle would be any safer.

Belle had searched the small cell for any hint of a way out, but besides the barred door, the only other opening was a large hole that, if she were to jump from it, would lead her straight to her death. She'd eventually had to admit defeat. The only way she would get out of her cell was if that monster let her out.

She slid to the ground, her back against the wall furthest from the door. She had intended to stay awake, not wanting to be found unconscious in case the beast came back. But exhaustion had overcome her and refused to be pushed aside. When she closed her eyes, she thought only minutes had passed. However, when the unexpected voices sounded from the other side of the door, she sensed that hours had passed, if not days. There was no way to be certain, but when she brought herself to her feet she felt more awake than she had in a long time.

As the voices grew louder Belle got the sense that she'd heard them before. Were they the voices she'd chased before the beast found her? She knew without having to ask that they were. And she would not let them get away again.

"I know you're there. Show yourself," she demanded with more bravery than she felt. She picked up the small stool she only just noticed and held it out as a shield. It would do little good in a fight, but it was all she had and it was better than nothing.

"Patience, child. All in good time."

Belle frowned, but did not back down. She tightened her grip on the stool and waited for the voice's owner to appear.

She started when she saw a shadow grow by the door to her cell. "Please," she began. "I will leave as soon as I am let out of this cell. You have my word."

To her surprise, the mysterious man let out a loud, highly amused laugh. "My dear mademoiselle, we do not wish you to leave. On the contrary, we are here to offer you more comfortable accommodations."

"Accommodations?" Belle repeated. "You mean…"

"We are here to escort you to your new room," the voice finished.

"Lumiere," a new voice hissed. This one sounded older and much less hospitable. "I thought you said…"

"Please, Cogsworth," the voice that must have belonged to Lumiere interjected. "Have a little faith."

Before Belle could think on what he meant by that, the door to her cell swung open. Belle pressed herself as hard as she could against the wall, keeping her grip on the stool as steady as she was able.

"Do not be frightened," Lumiere said softly. "We mean you no harm. We are here on behalf of the master, who said we are to show you to your room. Even if you are only here for one night, he wanted you to be well rested for your journey and apologizes for any bad impression he may have left."

"If by first impression you mean locking me in a cell. I'm sure that is a mistake he often makes with visitors." Belle could not help her sarcastic reply as she slowly inched her way to the doorway of her prison. She knew it was not becoming of her, but she could not help it.

"I confess we do not get many visitors. We have not for some time," Lumiere admitted softly, sounding closer than he'd been thus far.

Belle finally stepped out of the cell, her stool raised and ready to strike in case she needed to protect herself. She looked around, expecting to see two men waiting for her. But she did not see anything.

"Down here," Lumiere said, and Belle lowered her gaze.

She did not see two men, but three objects standing by her feet: a candelabra, a mantel clock, and a pitchfork.

Belle could not help it. She screamed. Then she brought the stool down, slamming it into the mantel clock with enough force to cause him to drop painfully to the floor.

The candelabra laughed as he helped the clock to his feet. The pitchfork remained stationary. Belle wondered if it was alive as the other two were. Her silent question was answered almost at once as it slowly turned to watch its companions stand up again.

"Please do not be alarmed. We only wish to escort you to your room," the candelabra said once he'd helped his friend back up. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Monsieur Lumiere, footman and valet of this estate."

He turned to the mantel clock, which was glaring at him as much as a mantel clock was able to glare. If the situation wasn't so alarming, Belle might have laughed. "This is Cogsworth." Then he turned to the pitchfork. "And this is Maurice. Do not mind Maurice. He does not talk much."

"Of course," Belle replied darkly. "Why would he?"

"Please follow us, mademoiselle." Lumiere walked over to her and allowed Belle to pick him up. The mantel clock and pitchfork followed.

As they made their way out of the cell tower, Belle made sure to keep her stride slow so that Cogsworth and Maurice could easily keep up.

For long moments they walked in awkward silence. Belle had so many questions that she wanted to ask, but she did not know how to phrase them without sounding rude, then immediately questioned why she bothered with manners when her companions weren't even human. The whole situation was absurd, and Belle decided that, wolves or no wolves, she would be leaving at first light.

"This will be your room for the night, and as many other nights as you wish," Lumiere told her once they stopped at a large golden door in a chamber on the other side of the castle. "It might not appear to be much, but the master wanted you to have the most comfortable room in the castle. Other than his own of course."

"Why do you call him master?" Belle asked before she could stop herself. "He's a beast."

Lumiere, Cogsworth, and Maurice all exchanged nervous looks. Lumiere answered a moment later, "He is not as mean as he may appear. Do not be deceived by his poor manners and alarming appearance. Deep down he is quite a gentleman."

Perhaps aware that he did not answer her question, he jumped out of her hand and opened the door. The three objects stepped aside so that Belle could enter first.

The room was nothing short of exquisite. The entire room was bigger than the room she'd shared with five other girls at the orphanage. The bed alone looked as though it was worth more than everything at Madam Rouchard's put together. The walls were decorated with silver. The chandelier looked as though it were designed by the gods themselves. Even the floor was polished and made of finer wood than she was likely ever to find in Villeneuve.

"It's beautiful," Belle reluctantly managed to say once she'd stepped inside and appraised it fully.

"Of course," Lumiere put in. Belle wondered whether, had he been capable of it, he would have smiled. "The master only furnishes his rooms with the finest of luxuries."

Belle did not know how to respond to that. It seemed to her that, if the beast could afford such luxuries, he could have done with giving some of it to the town only miles away. They could not quite call themselves impoverished, but Villeneuve was a far cry from _this._ Just one item in this room alone could have fed the children under Madam Rouchard's care for an entire week.

Belle looked away from her three companions and sat down on the bed, which was full of dust.

"Do not worry. I will have the maids clean up. We were not expecting guests." Lumiere said quickly.

As if his words had been the catalyst, five feather dusters flew into the room and immediately began sweeping away all the dust the room carried.

"Do not go to such lengths. I have no intention of staying longer than the night," Belle said, biting back the scorn in her voice. She would not find what she was looking for here. That much was clear.

"As you wish." Lumiere turned to his companions, who had remained silent. Belle almost forgot about them. "Come. We will see about the dinner preparations. You are invited to come down to the dining room when it is time. One of us will summon you."

"Fine."

Belle turned away from them, hoping they would get the message and leave. She did not think she could stand to be around them any longer.

"One more thing, mademoiselle," Lumiere added, his tone changing to one of reluctance. "The master wished for us to learn your name for him. He did not get a chance to ask you before."

"You mean as he was dragging me up to the cell tower?" Belle spat before she could stop herself.

"Uh…yes. Precisely," Lumiere replied stiffly. For a candelabra, he looked remarkably uncomfortable.

Belle considered giving them a false name. She would not be staying past morning, so what did it matter what name she gave them? But she could not think of a suitable alias. Not to mention that lying would serve her no purpose.

"Belle. My name is Belle."

Then she slammed the door shut on the trio, unaware as she did so that the pitchfork had fallen over in startled surprise.


	6. Chapter Five

**When the Petal Falls  
**

* * *

 **Summary:** Maurice works for Prince Adam at the castle to support his wife and young daughter. He is cursed with the rest of the castle when the Enchantress crashes the party, unable to return to his family. Soon after his wife succumbs to her sickness and passes away. Belle is placed in an orphanage for the next thirteen years, until she runs away in search of a father she barely remembers. She vows to find him and bring him home, but she gets more than she bargained for when she stumbles upon a lonely castle surrounded by winter.

 **A/N:** This chapter is a little shorter than I'd originally intended, but it ended where I wanted so here we are. This chapter does feature a Beast/Adam point of view, so hopefully that makes up for it. It was interesting to get inside his head! As always, please let me know what you think. All responses are appreciated.

* * *

 **Chapter Five**

Maurice had listened to the conversation with something close to boredom. It was obvious the master had frightened the girl to the point where she clearly would've preferred braving the wolves in the forest than stay any longer in the castle than she had to. He did not know why Lumiere bothered trying to charm her because it was clear that she would never come to love the prince. He'd practically tuned the conversation out of his mind, regretting his decision to come out of the closet.

But then she'd said her name.

It was possible that the girl was not his daughter. After all, Belle was not a completely uncommon name. Maurice was sure there was at least one other who went by the name.

Deep down, however, Maurice knew that his suspicions were true. Somehow, miraculously, his precious Belle had found her way back to him.

He did not know how he could have missed it. She had grown to resemble her mother so much that it was almost like seeing her brought to life. Belle had inherited Celine's sleek, dark brown hair, her wide brown eyes, high cheekbones, and slender figure. She was no longer his precocious three year old who had begged him to read her story after story at bedtime. No, his Belle had turned into quite a beauty.

"Maurice!" Lumiere cried the moment the young woman slammed the door behind them. "Are you okay?"

"I…I'm fine," Maurice managed, his mind still reeling. Lumiere leaned down to help him back into an upright position. It was not an easy task. As a candelabra, Lumiere was much smaller than he so even with Cogsworth's help, it was slow going. Maurice knew that, were he still human, he would have been sweating from the exertion.

"Perhaps the stress of the day has proven too much. I knew we should never have let the girl out of her cell!" Cogswoth exclaimed hotly, pacing his little clock's body around his two companions, as he often did whenever he was nervous. "When the master finds out…"

"When he finds out, we will tell him that this girl is the one he needs to break the spell. I can feel the truth of it," Lumiere cut in at once. "The petals have nearly all fallen. This is our last chance. If we do not try, we have no hope of breaking the curse."

Maurice and Cogsworth both gaped at him, though neither spoke. Maurice could hardly think about the curse. He had just found his daughter after so much time apart. If she were truly the one to help him become human again, it could only mean one thing.

She would have to fall in love with Prince Adam.

The thought brought him no joy. On the contrary, it made him sick to his stomach at the mere thought of the two of them together. Belle was a pure soul, full of love and joy. Adam was…well, Adam was a beast, in more ways than one.

"I do not believe it," Maurice spoke up at last, putting as much conviction into his words as he could muster. "The girl made it quite clear that she has no wish to stay here. To force her would only push her farther away from our purpose. Someone else will break the spell."

Lumiere and Cogsworth stared at him in surprise, but Maurice did not back down. "Consider it," he went on as they began the long descent down the wide staircase. "The master has to make a girl fall in love with him despite his appearance. In order to do that, he must act like a gentleman. The only side of him she has seen has been a monster. He locked her in the cell tower. What woman would fall in love with him after that?"

"A woman who can see past first impressions," Lumiere replied, as though the answer was obvious. "Which is why we must try harder than ever to charm her. We can start with dinner. We will have Cuisinier prepare a marvelous feast, during which the master and Belle will converse and get to know each other properly. What can go wrong?"

"Perhaps neither of them wishes to get to know the other," Maurice argued. The mention of his daughter's name had put added conviction to his words. He was more determined than ever to keep them as far apart as he was able to.

"Why do you seem so convinced she is not the one?" Lumiere asked once they were back on the main level of the castle. "I would have thought you would be as anxious as any of us to become human again. There was a time when all you could talk about was getting back home to your wife and daughter."

"Well, that's just it," Maurice said. He'd debated whether he wished to tell Lumiere and Cogsworth who the girl truly was, but decided that if they knew Belle was his daughter they might give up in trying to push her and Prince Adam together. "That girl up there, Belle, is my daughter."

As expected, his words were met with reluctance. Both the candelabra and mantel clock stared at him as though he'd suddenly sprouted arms and legs. Just when the scrutiny was becoming too much, Maurice spoke up. "I do not wish for them to get together. Even if it means I remain a pitchfork forever, Belle deserves to be free of him. She would be miserable as his wife, trapped for the rest of her life with a man as cruel as that."

"How do you know she is your daughter?" Cogsworth finally asked, his voice full of his skepticism. "It's been so long since you last saw her, after all."

"My daughter's name was Belle. She so resembles my Celine that it is like looking back into the past." His voice softened as he added, "Deep down, I don't think I ever expected to see her again."

The trio was silent for a moment, the revelation hanging over them in a cloudy haze. It was Lumiere, predictably, who was the first to speak. "You must tell her, Monsieur. The longer you put it off, the harder it will be."

Maurice shook his head, which was as strange as ever since his head was now three sharp prongs. "She would never believe me. I've been out of her life so long she likely does not remember me."

"There is one way to know for certain," Lumiere said softly, walking over to his friend and offering him a comforting arm. "Your wife would surely have told her about you, even if she did not quite understand why you never returned home."

Even though it was unintended, the valet's words poured salt into an old wound deep in Maurice's heart. Celine would never have understood why he had not returned. There were thousands of possible explanations she could have offered their daughter about where he'd gone. Belle could've thought him dead. She may even have thought he'd run out on her and her mother. Neither possibility gave him comfort. She could very well hate him for his absence from her life. If that were the case, he did not think he could bear it. For now, it was better if she did not know who he was.

"Whatever plan you have concocted, please leave me out of it," Maurice said as he began his long hop back to the closet he called home. "I want no part of it. And please, whatever you do, do not tell Belle who I am. I will tell her when I am ready."

Maurice did not bother to wait to hear their replies. He turned and hopped away, knowing he'd disappointed them. What hurt the most was knowing he'd disappointed his family more.

* * *

Despite her best efforts, Belle eventually succumbed to her exhaustion and laid on the bed. It was like laying on a cloud. She'd never felt a mattress as soft as the one in her elegant room, though she would never tell the enchanted objects that she found the room satisfactory.

A soft knock at the door broke her from her reverie. She immediately got out of bed and straightened her dress, not wanting the staff to know she'd taken advantage of their hospitality. The door opened of its own accord and Belle steeled herself, unsure of who was about to walk through the door. She almost wished it was Lumiere with his pleasant demeanor. At least he made an effort to show her some kindness. The beast had only done his best to make her feel like the unwanted guest she was.

To her surprise, it was neither.

A serving cart rolled into the room of its own accord, and Belle braced herself. She was still unused to seeing the strange things this castle possessed; it felt as though she'd stepped straight into one of her favorite books.

As the cart stopped just a few feet away from where Belle stood, she noticed that it was not empty. It brought in a white teapot, with a pink flowery design bordering the edges. In the center on one of the sides were the unmistakable markings of eyes and a mouth. With everything she'd seen in the past few hours, she was hardly surprised when the teapot began speaking to her.

"Lumiere was right about you, child. You are certainly a sight to behold." So the teapot was female. Belle wondered what the rules were for what gender the objects were, but knew better than to give voice to her question.

Belle did not know how to reply, so she chose to remain silent. She stared at the teapot, noticing for the first time a little teacup beside it. The teapot filled it with what looked to be hot tea, and the teacup hopped off the cart of its own accord, coming to a stop at her feet.

"You should drink, love. It's been a quite a day for you."

Belle did not need to be told twice. She gently lifted the teacup to her lips and took a tentative sip, instantly warmed by the hot liquid.

"That tickles," the teacup laughed as she sipped. Belle's surprise only increased at the unmistakable high-pitched voice of a child. She lowered the teacup and stared at it in amazement.

"I'm Mrs. Potts, and that is my son, Chip." The teapot made a move that Belle thought must have passed for a bow. She smiled, somehow enamored with the female teapot and her teacup son. They were charming in a way that the others had not been, and she felt welcomed for the first time since arriving at the castle. It was something she both embraced and rejected.

"Thank you," Belle began as she carefully set the teacup back on the cart by its mother. "But your hospitality is unnecessary. I'm not staying past the night."

"So I was told," Mrs. Potts said dismissively. "I can't say I blame you for choosing to leave. The master can be a bit off-putting at first. Just know that, deep down, he is a warm, gentle soul who has been lonely for quite a long time."

Belle gaped at her. "Do you think that excuses his earlier treatment of me?"

"Of course not, dear. I'm only warning against a rush to judgment. It does no one any good when we assume the worst about people."

Belle sighed, but did not reply. Somehow, it did not seem wise to point out that the master of the castle was a beast, and therefore not a person at all. Perhaps enchanted objects could not see the difference.

"Well, thank you for the tea," Belle said, hoping her tone conveyed the intended dismissal. "It was delicious."

"You're welcome, child," Mrs. Potts replied, sounding much like the doting mother Belle had lost at such a young age. She turned away from the cart and was about to walk to the window when the teapot spoke up once more. "I also came to escort you to dinner. I believe Lumiere mentioned that one of us would be along to take you to the dining room."

As much as Belle wished to deny the invitation and remain in the bedroom for the rest of the night, her stomach had other ideas. Right on cue, a massive rumble erupted from it. The mention of dinner reminded Belle of how long it had been since she'd had a proper meal.

 _What could one meal hurt? At least I will be well fed for the journey ahead,_ Belle reasoned silently.

She nodded her acquiescence, and followed the kitchen cart out of the room.

* * *

Prince Adam gave no thought to the woman locked in the cell tower as he made his way to the dining room for the evening meal. He planned for a quiet evening alone, which was the way it had been ever since he'd inherited the castle from his father. Since becoming a beast, he preferred solitude to the company of others. When the curse had first been placed upon him and his servants, the others had regarded him with fear and unease every time they laid eyes on him. When he'd been human that had been due to his deplorable demeanor. After the curse it was due to his monstrous appearance.

At least when he was alone he did not have to subject himself to the fear and loathing that was usually directed his way.

All those feelings had been brought back by the sudden appearance of the girl. The very last thing he'd expected to encounter was a young woman in his study. She reminded him of everything he could no longer have, and he'd reacted harshly because of it. He could not quite bring himself to regret his actions, but he did question his rashness. She'd said all she wanted was shelter for the night. He knew full well how vicious the wolves of the forest were. It would have been the least he could do to offer her a bedroom and a hot meal.

Instead he'd locked her in a cell.

There was nothing to be done for it. Even if he returned to the tower and released her, she would retreat back into the woods. She had said as much to him. What other choice did he have? He could not let her return to the forest, only to become dinner for those vicious creatures. He may have turned into a beast, but he was no monster.

At least, not yet.

He shuddered when he was reminded of what the curse would turn him into once the last petal fell. Locking someone in a cell would be a mercy in comparison.

Wishing to think no more about the girl, he pushed open the door to the dining room only to find her sitting in the chair on the other side of the table in which he took his meals.

He stopped in his tracks, gaping at the girl who was quite obviously _not_ where he'd left her. Her brown eyes were wide as she took him in, and her lips had parted when he'd entered. Her thin eyebrows had risen in surprise at his arrival, but the surprise quickly changed into one of contempt.

"I was not told I'd be eating with _you,"_ she spat at him, rising from her seat.

"I could say the same." Adam was aware he stood between the girl and the door, which was most likely the only reason she hadn't already left the dining room. They stared at each other for what very well could have been days, each daring the other to move first. Adam was determined not to back down in his own home.

Both were spared from breaking the silence when the door swung open. The kitchen cart rolled in, as it did for every solitary meal, bringing in Lumiere, Cogsworth, and Mrs. Potts. None of them seemed surprised to find the two humans glaring at each other.

"I see the two of you have become reacquainted," Lumiere said as the cart stopped by the table. He and Cogsworth began their usual struggle of bringing the dinner trays to the table.

"Why is she out of the cell tower?" Adam demanded quietly without looking away from the girl. She was meeting his gaze unflinchingly.

"Well, Mademoiselle Belle was very hungry, and it seemed a shame for you to dine alone when there was perfectly good company to be had…" Lumiere trailed off uncomfortably, looking to Cogsworth for help.

"Master, I want to assure you that I was against this foolhardy plan. I had no intention of going against your orders," Cogsworth put in, quite _un_ helpfully.

The girl Adam now knew to be called Belle finally looked away from him and turned her attention to the two servants. "It does not matter. I have no intention of eating with a creature who locks up his visitors as though they were common criminals."

Adam flinched at the word 'creature,' and felt his temper rising. Almost against his will, he spat, "And why should I wish to eat with an intruder? You can take your dinner back in your cell. It makes no difference to me."

Belle turned to leave. She brushed past Adam, leaving a trail of fury in her wake. Adam did not miss the meaningful looks Lumiere, Cogsworth, and Mrs. Potts exchanged with each other at her departure. Adam roared, knocking over the chair that Belle had vacated upon his arrival in his anger.

"The next time one of you goes against my orders, I will not be so quick to overlook it. If the girl wishes to eat, she will eat in the cell I put her in. If not, she can leave tomorrow with an empty stomach. Is that understood?" He growled in warning for good measure.

"Yes, Master," the three servants replied. He did not miss the disappointment coating their words.

Turning away from them, Adam took his usual place at the head of the table and ate his dinner alone.


	7. Chapter Six

**When the Petal Falls  
**

* * *

 **Summary:** Maurice works for Prince Adam at the castle to support his wife and young daughter. He is cursed with the rest of the castle when the Enchantress crashes the party, unable to return to his family. Soon after his wife succumbs to her sickness and passes away. Belle is placed in an orphanage for the next thirteen years, until she runs away in search of a father she barely remembers. She vows to find him and bring him home, but she gets more than she bargained for when she stumbles upon a lonely castle surrounded by winter.

 **A/N:** I started this chapter more times than I care to admit, but I am finally happy with the end result. Hopefully you all will be too. A hundred thank yous to everyone who has reviewed and put this story on favorites and alerts. It so appreciated! Anyway, on with reading. Hope it doesn't disappoint!

* * *

 **Chapter Six**

It was still dark outside when Belle woke the following morning. She planned for a quick getaway, and had therefore not gotten much sleep during the night. She had been hoping for a bath, but knew that to prolong her departure would only bring attention upon herself. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to try to stop her.

Fortunately she hadn't unpacked anything so there wasn't much for her to do other than make the bed and sneak out. She changed into the last dress she owned, which was white with a red hem. Belle hoped that the next place she came upon would have a place for her to do laundry. She did not fancy having to change back into her dirty dresses.

She opened her bedroom door as quietly as possible then surveyed the corridor to make sure it was empty. She made sure to check all around for any objects that may have been moving. It was impossible to know what was alive and what was not in this enchanted castle. Once she was satisfied that she was alone, she slowly crept out of her room with her meager bag of possessions.

Belle half expected to be stopped along the way, but it seemed all of the castle's inhabitants were asleep. Could enchanted objects sleep? It was a riddle to contemplate later, once she was as far away from the castle as possible.

Every step she took made the floorboards creak under her weight, causing her to jump and peer around in alarm. The last thing she wanted was to cross paths with the Beast. He'd seemed to welcome the idea of her leaving the previous day, but she did not want to give him the chance to change his mind about keeping her as his prisoner.

It was easy enough to find the front door. The castle's inhabitants hadn't made her navigate the castle blindfolded, and she'd taken care to learn her surroundings so that she wouldn't get lost if she needed to make a quick getaway. She quickened her pace and stopped at the door, testing it to see if it was locked.

Thankfully, it wasn't.

She wasted no time opening the door, grateful that it did not make a sound. She closed it behind her than began her journey away from the castle.

Belle only made it a few yards before she came upon a structure she hadn't seen previously. She had been in such a hurry to get away from the wolves that she'd overlooked what was unmistakably the stables. Was a place like this likely to have horses? It was worth looking into.

When she arrived at the stables, she was disappointed but not surprised to find it empty. She supposed it would be a waste to have horses when none of the castle's inhabitants were able to ride one. There had to have been at some point in the castle's history, however. Otherwise why even bother building the stables? It was yet another mystery that she would have contemplated if she were to stay.

It wasn't long before Belle was off the castle grounds. She walked cautiously, careful to keep her steps as silent as possible so as not to alert any predators to her whereabouts. She wished she had a map or something to go by so that she could be sure of where she was going. She did not know how far the next village was. For all she knew Villeneuve was the only town for hundreds of miles. The thought gave her no comfort, especially since her rations were running low and she had no idea how to hunt. She supposed the likelihood of finding fruit or berries was good, especially since there were animals in the forest that lived them, but so far she had yet to come across any.

As the day wore on Belle's hunger increased. She finally allowed herself one of her last pieces of bread, wishing she would have spared the time to find the kitchen in the castle to steal herself some food, but it was too late to go back. Even if she did the Beast or the enchanted objects were almost certainly awake. There would be no sneaking into the castle, and her pride refused to let her to go back. She would not give the Beast the satisfaction.

By sunset Belle's fatigue was at an all time low. Her feet ached, her stomach was digesting itself, and her eyelids felt as though they were weighted down with sandbags. She knew that if she closed her eyes she would pass out. She needed to find somewhere relatively safe to take shelter for the night. The wolves would be out at any moment and she did not fancy running into them again. She doubted she would be so lucky to get away a second time.

As she walked on, however, she did not find any place suitable to lay her head. There were no trees big enough to climb. There were no openings within large rocks to seek shelter in. Only thin trees and open spaces that would only invite predators.

The first howl of a distant wolf nearly made her jump out of her skin. She quickened her pace, her heart feeling as though it was about to jump straight out of her chest as she did so.

But then she found it. There was a ditch just a few paces ahead that would lend itself nicely to a small shelter. All she needed to do was find some branches to cover herself, and she might just keep out of sight of the wolves.

Belle wasted no time burying herself in the ditch and found enough loose branches to hide underneath. If she was careful not to move too much, she just might be able to avoid becoming wolf food.

She curled herself into a ball, trembling when another wolf's howl filled the night air. This one was closer. It would not be long before the wolves came upon her hiding spot.

After whispering a quick prayer, Belle closed her eyes and let sleep overtake her. If she was to become dinner for the wolves, she preferred to be blissfully unaware.

* * *

Adam cursed when the servants informed him of the girl's departure. He'd known she would likely be long gone by the time he woke the following morning, but having his suspicions confirmed filled him with a dread he had not expected. What surprised him was the fact that he was unsure what he dreaded more: Belle leaving when she could be the one to break the spell, or the very real possibility of the wolves attacking her.

The girl had been nothing but infuriating during her stay with him. He knew he had not made her situation any easier by locking her up. It had been so long since he'd been in the company of a human that he'd temporarily forgotten himself. And now it was too late. She was gone, and there was nothing he could do.

After a lonely breakfast of scrambled eggs, sausages, and croissants, Adam retreated into his chambers in the west wing and watched with mounting dismay as petal after petal fell. At the rate the rose was slowly destroying itself, it would not be long before the curse became permanent.

As the afternoon wore on in the same manner, the feeling of needing to _do_ something only grew. Short of going into the neighboring village and kidnapping a girl to bring back to the castle, he did not know what he could do. Any girl he brought into the castle against her will would never fall in love with him, no matter how charming he was. His best option would have been to convince Belle to remain with him, but she'd had a way of aggravating him as no one else had. For the few moments he'd been in her presence all he'd wanted was to get as far away from her as possible. He'd eagerly welcomed her departure.

Now he wished he could get her back.

As though he'd read his mind, Lumiere knocked at the door and entered without bothering to wait for a reply. Adam did not have the energy to reprimand him. If he was honest with himself, he welcomed the company, lonely as he was.

Not that he would ever tell him that.

"Master, why did you let her leave?" Lumiere asked, abandoning all pretense. Adam did not blame him for his candor. After all, it was his fault the valet was a candelabra in the first place.

"She made her desire quite clear. She had no intention of staying any longer than she had to."

"You could have convinced her to stay." At the look Adam gave him, Lumiere quickly added, "With all due respect, Master."

Adam turned his gaze back on the rose, which was about to shed yet another petal. "It's too late. She's gone, and she won't be back."

"But Master," Lumiere interjected, clearly unable to help himself. "You know these woods. You know she will not find another village for days. She had so little belongings with her, and none of them were suitable for surviving a trek through the forest."

"Your point?"

Lumiere shifted, uncomfortable. "If she stands any chance of surviving in the woods on her own, she needs more than what she has now. She has nothing to defend herself against the wolves or any of the other predators that prowl the forest. She has no suitable clothing for the elements, and her rations were scarce. I took the liberty of looking in her bag earlier."

"Of course you did," Adam grumbled. "What exactly are you suggesting?"

"I am suggesting, Master, that you go after her. I know that, deep down, you would never be able to live with yourself if you came upon her dead body one day."

Adam winced at the candelabra's words. They were harsh, but true. He may have looked like a beast, and Belle might have been the most stubborn woman he'd ever met, but she did not deserve the fate that awaited her if she was to continue on her journey as she was. And if he and the rest of his cursed companions stood any chance of becoming human again, he needed to go after her.

"Tell Mrs. Potts and the rest of the kitchen staff to have dinner made. Get the maids to prepare Belle's room. Tell them to have a bed warmer on hand, in case it is needed. I pray it won't be." Adam strode to his bed and grabbed two cloaks. The first one he clipped on his shoulders, though he hardly needed it with his heavy fur coat. The second he gripped tightly in his paws, careful not to rip it with his sharp claws.

"How long do you think you will be, Master?" Lumiere asked tentatively, almost as if he were afraid of the answer.

"I hope to be back within the hour," Adam replied, though he did not believe it. Belle had a whole day's head start. Even though he was able to move much faster than her in his current form, she had an entire forest in which there were endless possibilities to her whereabouts. He did not put much faith in his tracking skills, mostly because it had been so long since he'd ventured out of the castle. He did not wish to tell Lumiere any of this. He had no intention of feeling guiltier than he already did.

Adam rushed past his servant, moving at a pace somewhere between a walk and a run as he made his way down the stairs and out the door.

He almost wished for snow. He could have at least followed her footprints that way. Instead he would have to track Belle the old fashioned way.

Between his intensified sense of smell and his old skills at tracking, he was confident that he was moving in the right direction. He only wished the sun was still up, not only for the added benefit of better vision, but for the heat as well. He was not optimistic that he would find her warm.

His unease was increased by the constant howling of the wolves. He'd known they would be prowling the forest, but hearing them firsthand only made the threat more real. He needed to find Belle, and soon.

Adam lost all track of time as he ventured further away from the castle. It felt like he'd been in the woods for an eternity, though he knew it could not have been more than a few hours at most. He had to remind himself that Belle had a day's worth of distance between them. He did not expect to find her in a few short hours, though that fact did not stop him from wishing otherwise.

The next howl could not have been more than a few miles away. He quickened his pace, wishing more than ever that he'd find the wolves soon. It was better he fight them off than Belle. At least he could defend himself.

The next sound that pierced the air sent him scrambling. The unmistakable woman's scream set his blood boiling. He raced in the direction of the scream, knowing with a deadly certainty that the scream had been Belle's. He only prayed he was not already too late.

He found her in a small ditch, holding a feeble branch in an effort to protect herself against the pack of wolves inching their way toward her. The five wolves were practically licking their chops in their anticipation of an easy fight.

Adam wasted no time in lunging for the wolf that had been the first to charge at Belle, dropping the cloak on the ground as he did so. He tackled the wolf to the ground, surprising the other wolves and Belle at the same time, judging from the startled cry that fell from her lips. He had no time to reassure her because his victim's companions had sprung into action upon seeing their pack leader attacked. The four other wolves turned their attention from Belle to him and all attacked at the same time.

Adam's beast form was no match for them, and they knew it. The wolves kept up their joint attack, aiming for his weak spots. He used his brute strength to throw them away, doing enough damage that they did not try again. Two of the wolves he'd thrown against nearby trees had barely struggled to their feet, and had watched as he kept up his attack on their companions. He was vaguely aware of Belle watching, but could do nothing to reassure her because the other wolves were proving harder to fend off.

One of them managed to get in a deep bite to his shoulder. He howled in pain and grabbed the wolf by the throat and threw him straight to the ground. The wolf was dead in an instant.

The others knew the fight was lost. They whined as they ran away, already mourning the loss of one of their own.

Adam fought to remain upright. He struggled to keep as much of his strength as he could, but the effort proved impossible. He slumped to the ground, his shoulder throbbing in agony.

He was hardly aware of Belle as she reluctantly took a step in his direction. She cautiously crept her way to him, but he could only watch. If she chose to run away there would be little he could do to stop her.

To his astonishment, she knelt down beside him and touched his arm. It was a gentle touch, hesitant, as though she did not know if the simple act would put him in further pain.

"Can you stand?" she asked softly, her voice much gentler than it had ever been while speaking to him.

He hissed in pain as his shoulder throbbed again. Belle immediately pulled her hand away from him, thinking it had been due to her touch. He wanted to reassure her, but words seemed to be too much for him. He took a deep breath and finally managed to whisper, "Yes."

Belle seemed to realize that he needed her help to accomplish the simple act of standing. She took his paw gently in her hand and was careful to avoid his ripped shoulder as she helped him to her feet. She was surprisingly strong for a human woman, but he did not have the strength to tell her. It seemed inappropriate, and she seemed hesitant enough to help him. The last thing he needed was to offend her and chase her and all future help away. If she left him, he did not think he would manage to get back home on his own.

No words were exchanged as Adam leaned on her as much as he could without crushing her to the ground. Belle was careful to remain steady and kept her gait slow in order not to get ahead of him. He was lucky he hadn't broken a leg.

Adam was exhausted by the time the castle came into view. He knew Belle had to be as well but she hadn't said a word in complaint, for which he was incredibly grateful. They kept up their slow pace. By the time they stepped into the castle grounds Adam felt ready to pass out from his weariness.

"Master! What has happened?" Lumiere asked the moment he saw Belle and Adam. Belle had managed to open the door on her own, but they'd been greeted almost at once by Lumiere, Cogsworth, Mrs. Potts, and the coat rack named Chapeau. At the sight of Adam and Belle they'd all broken into hysterics, until Cogsworth finally got a hold of himself.

"We can get the full story later. Right now the Master needs attending to, and I'm sure the young lady could do with a hot bath and some rest."

"I can take him to his room," Belle interjected, her voice shaky but determined. "I don't think he can make it on his own."

As much as Adam wanted to object and say that he was perfectly able to get to his chambers on his own strength, he felt as though the small act of opening his mouth would cause him to faint, which would only prove the girl's point.

"Yes," Lumiere said at last. "I think that would be best."

The enchanted objects followed Belle and Adam upstairs, Lumiere guiding Belle in the right direction because she had yet to enter the west wing. Adam nearly fell over with glee at the sight of his bed. The only thing that stopped him from entering the world of slumber was the pain in his shoulder. That would have to be treated before anything else could happen.

Belle guided him to the bed, and he laid down on his stomach so that the blood matting his fur would not contaminate the sheets. A kitchen cart rolled in on its own, carrying first aid supplies. Belle immediately went to work treating his shoulder, ignoring Adam's grimaces of pain as she did so.

The rest of the servants watched with bated breath as Belle finally wrapped his shoulder in a gauze bandage. When she finished she stood up. "Get some rest," she said to Adam, who was more than willing to take her advice. The moment he closed his eyes he was asleep.

* * *

"Thank you, Mademoiselle," Mrs. Potts said softly as Belle stood up from her vacated spot on the bed.

"You don't know what you did for us," Lumiere added, giving her a small bow.

"He saved my life," Belle admitted, sparing the Beast a look that he could not see. "It was the least I could do."

"The least _we_ can do is heed the master's orders," Lumiere announced and marched past Belle to the door. "I will have the maids draw you up a hot bath. Your bedroom is already prepared. I will make sure dinner is brought to your room right away. If there is anything else, you need only ask."

Belle smiled. It felt like her first smile since leaving the orphanage. "Thank you. That should be fine."

She left the Beast's room and followed Lumiere to her bedroom. He pointed out the adjoining washroom that she had not seen previously. When she was left alone she wasted no time diving in to the tub, relishing the feel of the soapy water against her grimy skin. It had been so long since she'd had a hot bath that the feeling felt foreign but welcome.

The only reason she pulled herself out of the tub some time later was her empty stomach and utter exhaustion. She could not have known which was worse. In the end her hunger won out, and by the time she was in a clean white nightdress and returned to the bedroom, there was a hot meal waiting for her.

Belle did not take the time to fully appreciate the dinner as she gobbled it down. She barely took stock of what she put into her mouth. The only feelings she felt once she finished were satisfaction and fullness for the first time in what felt like years.

By the time she climbed into bed, she felt like a whole new person. She would deal with the repercussions of her actions later. At the moment all she cared about was falling into a deep sleep and staying there for as long as she could.


	8. Chapter Seven

**When the Petal Falls  
**

* * *

 **Summary:** Maurice works for Prince Adam at the castle to support his wife and young daughter. He is cursed with the rest of the castle when the Enchantress crashes the party, unable to return to his family. Soon after his wife succumbs to her sickness and passes away. Belle is placed in an orphanage for the next thirteen years, until she runs away in search of a father she barely remembers. She vows to find him and bring him home, but she gets more than she bargained for when she stumbles upon a lonely castle surrounded by winter.

 **A/N:** I think I can safely say this is my favorite chapter to date! Not only does it feature Gaston (he refused to stay silent any longer), but it features my favorite scene thus far. I hope you enjoy! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed. It means a lot.

* * *

 **Chapter Seven**

Gaston was worried, which was not an emotion he usually experienced.

When he'd woken up two days ago on the hardwood floor of his bedroom above the pub he owned, he'd been surprised and disappointed to find that his bed was empty. The mysterious girl he met at the laundry fountain had cast some sort of spell on him, and he simply could not stop thinking about her. She had a way about her that was different from the other girls in the village. She was not demure, naïve, or willing to make a fool of herself in order to impress him or other men in Villeneuve. Simply put, she held herself with a dignified air that he found immensely attractive.

Gaston could not get enough of it.

Which was why her disappearance concerned him. Belle had made it plain enough that she intended to search for her father. Did she know where to go? Gaston suspected not, if she'd resorted to going to him for answers. He did not know why, but he could not leave it, or her, alone. He was enamored with her, which was why he was on his way to the last place he'd ever expected to go.

Gaston had never had reason to knock on the door of Madam Rouchard's Home for Vagrant Girls before. He'd only been vaguely aware of its existence until he'd met Mademoiselle Fournier just days ago. He didn't relish visiting when Belle had implied how miserable of an existence she'd had while living there, but he was desperate for answers. He had to start somewhere.

It took a minute before someone answered his knock. He recognized the girl who opened the door as the one who'd accompanied Belle at the fountain. Her cold blue eyes widened in obvious recognition as she bellowed, "Madam Rouchard!"

Gaston sighed, knowing this would not be easy. He steeled himself, hoping he appeared innocent and unthreatening as the girl returned with a woman who was undoubtedly the matron of the orphanage.

She was an unpleasant looking woman, with graying black hair that was swept up in a tight bun, causing her already severe face to look even more so. Her beefy arms were crossed over her massive chest, and she jutted her hip out as she regarded Gaston like a vulture who'd just found her next meal.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't darling Belle's lover," she sneered.

"Forgive my intrusion," Gaston said as though the matron had not spoken. "I've come to inquire about Mademoiselle Fournier. She came to me a few days ago and now she's disappeared."

"Is that so?" Madam Rouchard's sneer widened. Behind her, the girl cast him a disapproving look. "I don't know why you came to me. If she's already been to see you then you ought to know the little tramp ran away. I have not seen her for three days."

Gaston's hackles raised at the casual insult, but he chose to ignore it. "I'm concerned about her. Surely you have some idea where she might've gone."

"Well, let me think." Madam Rouchard raised her eyebrows in a mock imitation of thoughtfulness. "I do remember mentioning a place she _could_ go. Seeing as how she has an admirer, I think I told her the obvious place to go would be a local establishment where they offer admirers in spades."

"We are not lovers," Gaston said with as much dignity as he could muster. Inwardly, however, he could admit that he would not mind at all if he and Belle became lovers, though he was not about to suggest this to the woman who was so clearly looking to provoke a response out of him. He was not about to tarnish Belle's reputation any more than the woman seemed to think it already was.

"No?" Madam Rouchard quipped. "Then why are you so eager to find her? If she means nothing to you, you would not have come here looking for her. After all, you only met a few days ago, did you not?"

"We did," Gaston admitted. "But I am merely a man concerned about the well-being of a young woman who has no one else to look out for her. Surely you hold some compassion for a girl who has been in your care for the past thirteen years?"

If he expected his words to have any effect on the matron, he was sorely disappointed. It was clear enough to him that the woman held absolutely no regard for her former charge's safety. Gaston suspected that if she heard news of the girl's untimely death she would not be too upset by it.

"I'll tell you this much," Madam Rouchard said after a minute of silence. "No one knows who the girl's father is. It is as though her mother simply became pregnant all on her own. When Belle came here four years later she insisted her father was out there somewhere, no matter how many times I tried telling her otherwise. She is an obstinate, stubborn girl who lives in a fantasy world. She cannot accept reality, despite my best efforts to raise her right. What sort of regard could you possibly hold for someone like that?"

"Be that as it may, she is still a young woman alone in a world she has never explored. How long do you think she can survive on her own?"

Madam Rouchard shrugged in a way that conveyed the conversation was coming to a close. "I don't. If that is all, Monsieur, I hope you have a pleasant day. Do not go looking for her. It will only lead to disappointment."

And with that, both she and the girl behind her were gone.

For a moment Gaston could only stare at the closed door. He could not believe what he'd just heard. How could a woman hold no concern about a girl she'd raised since the age of four? How could she dismiss her so completely? How could he, a stranger, care more about Belle than a woman who was the closest thing she'd had to a mother for the past thirteen years?

Gaston pushed the disturbing thought aside as his resolve strengthened. His mind made up, he quickly returned to his pub, which he would leave to the care of his business partner, Le Fou in his absence. The little man had been chomping at the bit for the past five years to take on more responsibility at the pub, and his opportunity had come at last.

When Le Fou arrived at the pub later that afternoon to help him prepare for the night's business, Gaston wasted no time explaining his plans. By the time he finished, his friend's mouth was wide open in shock.

"How long will you be gone?"

"I don't know."

"Where will you be going?"

"I don't know."

"And all of this is for a girl you met only days ago?"

"Yes."

Gaston knew how ridiculous it sounded. He knew that, if their roles were reversed, he would be as confused as Le Fou was, but he found that he did not care. He only cared about a girl who was out in the world alone, looking for a man who did not exist. What would she do when she realized her search was nothing more than a fruitless endeavor? Gaston did not want to know the answer. He only knew he needed to find her before he found out.

"Well, then," Le Fou said finally, "I wish you good luck."

"Thank you," Gaston replied, smiling at the man who had been his best friend since childhood. "I would be lying if I said this will probably only take a few days."

"Take however long you need. Just make sure you bring her home safely."

"Don't worry. I intend to."

And with that, Gaston went upstairs to his flat, packed a bag, and set off into the night.

* * *

Belle awoke the following morning feeling more rested than she had in years. The hot bath and fresh meal had done wonders, and she felt as though her brief time in the woods had been nothing more than a distant dream.

After using the washroom, resisting the temptation to take another bath, she returned to her room to find a clean dress waiting for her on the bed. She did not know where it came from, but she decided not to question it too much as she changed.

It was easily the most comfortable dress she'd ever worn. It was red and white, with a red hem that fell down to her ankles. She could not resist spinning in front of the oval mirror that rested on a brass dresser, savoring the feel of the soft fabric on her skin. Nothing so fine had ever crossed the threshold of the orphanage back in Villeneuve.

 _If Louise could see me now,_ Belle thought as she gave her reflection one final assessment before leaving her bedroom.

For some reason, her first thought was to seek out the Beast. She was curious about his condition, not just because he'd saved her life last night, but because she'd seen him hold his own against five wolves. Even with his monstrous figure, he had struggled against the attack. Belle had not yet gotten the chance to thank him, and would not be content until she did so.

"Mademoiselle!" Lumiere exclaimed once she'd entered the dining room. "So nice to see you up and about. How are you doing on this fine morning?"

"I'm fine, thank you." Belle could not resist a smile at the candelabra's jovial tone. It was clear enough that he was still quite grateful she'd brought his master back, injured but safe.

"So glad to hear it. Breakfast is just about ready. Please take a seat."

Belle sat in the chair she'd occupied during her last time in the dining room. She hadn't gotten a chance to have a meal in this room, having fled after a second encounter with the Beast before dinner was served. Everything in the room, as with everything she'd seen so far in the castle, was made of the finest material. She marveled at the fine china she was expected to use for breakfast. She had never touched anything worth more than a couple of francs before.

The now familiar sight of the kitchen cart rolling into the dining room of its own accord brought her no surprise as it stopped beside her place at the table. Mrs. Potts, Chip, Lumiere, and Cogsworth immediately got to work serving her with more food than she could ever hope to eat.

"I can serve myself," she'd said as she watched the objects struggle to place tray upon tray on the table. They'd merely waved away her words.

"Please, Mademoiselle. It is our job. Besides, it is the least we can do after what you did for us last night," Lumiere said as he placed the last tray only inches from Belle's plate.

"But your master never would have been attacked if I hadn't left yesterday," she could not help but point out. "He got hurt saving my life, which would not have been necessary if I did not leave."

"Do not be ridiculous, dear," Mrs. Potts put in dismissively. "You were never our prisoner, despite that business with the master locking you in the tower. You had every right to leave. I'm just thankful the master had the sense to go after you. Those woods are dangerous, and with you traveling alone…" she trailed off, clearly unable to finish her thought.

Belle shifted, uncomfortable. She still felt responsible for the Beast's current condition, no matter what the servants said.

"Think no more on it," Mrs. Potts said as though she'd read Belle's thoughts. "You only need to eat and relax. Maybe later you can tell us where you are going so we can help you get there safely."

Belle nodded, watching as the servants left her alone. She was not eager to explain where she was going, mostly because she did not know. She only knew who she was searching for, and she very much doubted they could help her with that. Lumiere had told her it had been some time since they'd had guests. Though she did not know how long they had been alone in the castle, she suspected it had been longer than she'd been alive. Could enchanted objects age? Could the Beast age? They were only some of the many questions Belle wanted to investigate if she was to stay at the castle.

She contemplated her plans as she ate her breakfast of scrambled eggs, sausage, croissants, and oatmeal. Though she was not eager to venture back into the forest any time soon, she knew delaying her departure would only put off her search for her father. The idea of leaving the comfort and safety of her current residence did not appeal to her, but neither did living the rest of her life without any knowledge about her father or his whereabouts. Belle hated feeling so indecisive.

As she finished breakfast some time later, she decided that she would stay for as long as it took the Beast to recover from the wolf attack. It was the least she could do. She still wanted to do more to show her appreciation, but she did not know how to go about that. She supposed she could ask Lumiere or Mrs. Potts, but after leaving her alone in the dining room they had disappeared.

Making up her mind, Belle left the dining room and made her way up to the west wing. She needed to check on the Beast, if only to reassure herself that he was indeed okay.

She found him, not in his bed, but standing by his window on the far side of the room. He stood beside a small table she had not noticed before, which held a single glass case surrounding something she could not make out from her vantage point.

As she crossed the distance between herself and the Beast, the strange object came into focus, and she was able to see a rose.

It floated on its own, withered petals lining the table below it. She could not help staring at it. It was yet another oddity about the castle she could only speculate about.

The Beast turned to face her, and she quickly averted her gaze. It felt as if she'd crossed a line somehow, by looking at this rose that clearly meant something to him. Belle expected the master of the castle to yell at her, demand that she leave, or possibly grab her and drag her back to the cell tower. He did none of that. Instead, he met her gaze then turned back to the window. He seemed resigned, both to his current state and to her presence.

"Forgive my intrusion," Belle began awkwardly, shifting her weight from one leg to the other, "I only wanted to know if you were okay."

"Why wouldn't I be?" the Beast asked stiffly, still gazing intently out the window.

Belle swallowed before replying, "I don't know. It seemed impolite not to inquire after you saved my life last night."

The Beast did not answer right away. Belle had the impression that he was mulling over his words, deciding what he wanted to say. When he spoke a moment later the words felt forced and uncomfortable. "It was nothing."

"I disagree." Belle decided to take a risk and stepped up so that she stood beside him. She looked out the window as well, taking in the breathtaking view of the grounds of the castle, as well as the forest beyond. It seemed so magnificent from this angle. The forest did not look dangerous, but beautiful and welcoming. Belle could almost forget about the wolves and other predators that called those trees home. "Saving my life was not nothing."

She saw the Beast shrug from the corner of her eye, but did not turn to look at him. "I know how dangerous the wolves can be. They have hunted nearly every other animal they can in the forest, so when they come upon something new to hunt they jump at the chance. I should have warned you before, and for that I am sorry."

That time Belle did look at him. She had not expected an apology, though she appreciated it all the same. She wanted to say, "It's okay," but knew that it wasn't. His earlier treatment of her was not okay, but it seemed wrong to bring that up, especially considering this was their first civil conversation since meeting. She finally settled on, "And I'm sorry for putting you in the position of needing to save me."

Belle and the Beast fell into companionable silence, both gazing into the world beyond. It felt so much bigger than Belle had previously comprehended. The task of finding her father suddenly felt daunting and impossible. She shifted, suddenly uncomfortable and hoped the Beast would not notice.

Unfortunately, he did.

"What is it?"

"Nothing. I guess I just never realized before how large the world truly is."

She winced at how naïve the words sounded, but there was no taking them back. The Beast finally turned to look at her, but she refused to look back.

"I take it you have not seen much of the world?"

"I…I haven't seen any of it," Belle admitted, embarrassed. "I grew up in Villeneuve. It's a town just a few…"

"I know where it is," the Beast interjected.

"Well, I've never been anywhere else. I left three days ago, when I came upon your castle."

"I take it your parents did not like to travel?"

Belle lowered her gaze and stared at the floor as she said, "My parents are gone. I grew up in an orphanage."

"Oh," the Beast said, sounding uncomfortable himself now. "I'm sorry."

"My mother died when I was four," Belle explained before she could stop herself. "She was sick for about a year before she finally passed away."

"And what of your father?" the Beast asked softly.

"He…He's alive. I know he is," Belle said with a sudden conviction, almost daring the Beast to contradict her. "I never met him but I can feel him. I know it sounds insane, but I would know if he were dead."

She raised her head and met his eye, searching his blue eyes for some trace of understanding. She needed someone to agree with her, even if it was a creature who was not human. She needed to feel as though she wasn't searching for a ghost.

"I…" the Beast seemed unable to find the right words. "I know what it is like to lose someone you love."

Belle waited for him to elaborate, disappointed when he did not. He walked past her, away from the window and to his bed. She watched him but did not move. He began pacing the length of his room, and Belle had the sense he'd forgotten she was there. He stopped after a minute or two, then looked at her again, his expression gentler and more human, somehow, than it had ever been to her.

"You have the run of the castle. You may go anywhere you like. All I ask is that you do not leave. Not yet, at least. If you do wish to leave I will not stop you, but I will make arrangements for your safe passage. All you need to do is ask."

Belle felt strangely touched at this gesture, but had no desire to leave, and told him as much.

"I do not wish to overstay my welcome. If I could take the week to recover…"

"You are welcome for as long as you need. My castle is open to you. Consider it my way of repairing my earlier treatment of you. Anything you need is yours. The servants will be more than willing to help you in any way they can."

Sensing their conversation was at an end, Belle nodded and thanked him. She looked at the rose encased in glass one final time before taking her leave. She decided that her first task would be to seek out Lumiere. If she could not solve the mystery of her paternity, she would solve the mysteries of the castle. For now, it would have to do.


	9. Chapter Eight

**When the Petal Falls  
**

* * *

 **Summary:** Maurice works for Prince Adam at the castle to support his wife and young daughter. He is cursed with the rest of the castle when the Enchantress crashes the party, unable to return to his family. Soon after his wife succumbs to her sickness and passes away. Belle is placed in an orphanage for the next thirteen years, until she runs away in search of a father she barely remembers. She vows to find him and bring him home, but she gets more than she bargained for when she stumbles upon a lonely castle surrounded by winter.

 **A/N:** Thank you so much for all of your kind words! It really means a lot. I really hope you like this chapter because it brings back a character I've been dying to get back in the mind of. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter Eight**

No matter how hard he tried, Maurice could not bring himself to leave his closet.

He'd heard about Belle's near miss with the wolves and how she'd brought the master back, injured but okay. Lumiere had talked about it nonstop since the moment Belle had put the prince back in his bed.

"You must tell her, Monsieur. Before she leaves here forever," he'd urged the pitchfork the last time they'd spoken.

"She'd never believe me," Maurice argued. The very idea of admitting his identity to his daughter filled him with a sense of dread he had not felt since he was human. It was not because he did not want her to know who he was. It was mostly due to his fear that she would be ashamed of him, and he did not think he could live knowing that Belle disapproved of him.

"How will you know if you do not tell her?"Lumiere had pressed when Maurice voiced his fear to him. "Isn't it better to give her the chance to prove herself to you? At least you would know for certain how she feels."

"That is easy for you to say," Maurice said despondently, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "You did not have a family when we were cursed. You have no one out there looking for you."

Lumiere jerked his body in a way that reminded Maurice of a shrug. "That may be true, but I know that, if it were me, I would want to know. I could not live with the uncertainty, especially since she is under this very roof."

Maurice wished to speak no more on the subject and told the candelabra as much. Lumiere, perhaps knowing his advice was having no effect on him, avoided the closet and had not been to see Maurice since. He tried not to feel the loneliness that was growing by the day, though it was difficult not to. On more than one occasion he heard the bustling chatter of the servants as they passed his closet. It was the only way he knew that Belle was still in the castle, because she rarely ventured into his closet's corridor. She seemed to stay upstairs mostly, which made him feel both relieved and disappointed. He had hoped for another look at her.

A few days later, when it became apparent that she was not about to come down any time soon, Maurice decided the time had come to venture out of his closet.

He decided to wait until night because he did not want anyone to see him, especially Lumiere. He did not want to give the valet the satisfaction of seeing his curiosity get the better of him. He knew Lumiere would only pressure him into talking to Belle. No matter how much he wanted to see her, he knew he was not ready to talk to her.

Fortunately no one, object, beast, or human, was roaming the castle, which gave Maurice free reign. He winced every time the bottom of his body thumped against the hardwood floor. The noise felt magnified in the empty corridors. He half expected Belle or the master to come bursting out of a nearby door to investigate the source of the noise. Luckily the hallways remained blissfully empty, giving Maurice the solitude he was most comfortable in.

Lumiere had let slip, on the off chance that Maurice would search for Belle as he was doing now, that he'd given her a bedroom in the east wing. Maurice had not had many opportunities to wander the castle when he was human, but he'd done so enough times that he knew the layout well enough. As such, he had no trouble finding the east wing. Even as a pitchfork, it did not take much time to find and enter it.

It was even more elegant than he remembered. Everything, from the floor to the chandelier, was grand and resplendent. Maurice felt wildly out of place as he hopped deeper into the wing, passing bedroom after bedroom, until he came upon the room he sought.

The bedroom door appeared closed at first, but as he came closer he saw that it was open a fraction of an inch. It was wide enough that Maurice could peek inside without having to open it wider.

When he looked in, he was surprised to find that the bed was empty. If he'd been human he would have frowned. It was the middle of the night after all, and Maurice knew there was no one wandering around. Had Belle snuck out without anyone noticing? Even after two encounters with the wolves, had she decided to brave them a third time in order to get away? The thought gave him no comfort, and he was just about to alert Lumiere so he could alert the master, when a small cough came from inside the room.

Maurice risked a closer look. He hopped as quietly as he could just inside the entryway and found the young woman sitting in the window seat, gazing out the closed window. Though he could not see her face, he could see one side of it in the reflection of the mirror. There was no mistaking the sadness in her eyes. Eyes that reminded him so much of his darling Celine.

All at once he was brought back to that day nearly eighteen years ago when he and Celine had looked into the face of their newborn daughter for the first time.

* * *

 _Despite the pungent smell of sweat and blood that filled the small office of the village doctor, Maurice could not recall a happier time. He kept a tight grip on Celine's hand as the doctor carried their newborn child away to get cleaned. When he looked down into his wife's brown eyes they reflected the joy he felt. He could not express it with mere words. He felt as though all the happiness in the world had enveloped him and Celine, and that they could not possibly ever feel sad again._

 _"You did wonderfully, darling," Maurice murmured, using his free hand to brush away a stray strand of Celine's dark brown hair. "The doctor said she's perfectly healthy."_

 _"I can't wait to hold her," Celine whispered faintly, the stress of the birth still in her voice._

 _When the doctor placed their daughter in Celine's arms a few minutes later, Maurice felt his happiness expand. Their little girl was…_

 _"Beautiful," Celine murmured as she gazed adoringly into the sleeping face of their daughter. "She's beautiful."_

 _"Of course she is," Maurice agreed. "She takes after her mother."_

 _Celine smiled as she tore her gaze away from the baby and met Maurice's eye. "What shall we call her?"_

 _Maurice contemplated the question. They had not gone over names since they had not known the gender of their child. As he mulled over various girl names, he silently admitted to himself that none of them felt right. What name could possibly encompass everything he saw in his newborn daughter?_

 _"Belle," Celine murmured after a moment of thoughtful silence. "She looks like a Belle, don't you think?"_

 _"Belle does mean beauty," Maurice added. "I've never seen such a beautiful child. And I'm not just saying that because she's ours. She truly is remarkable."_

 _"Belle it is, then." Celine's gaze returned to the baby in her arms._

 _"Belle Celine Fournier," Maurice said. He noticed his wife's smile widen at the full name Maurice had spoken aloud. "A fitting name for her."_

* * *

Maurice had only seen his daughter reach the age of three, but he had to admit that he hadn't expected her beauty to grow. If possible, it seemed to have surpassed that of her mother, though she resembled her so much that he sometimes had to remind himself that he was looking at Belle, not Celine.

He was so lost in the past that he did not notice as Belle turned suddenly away from the window and looked down at him. Her brow furrowed in confusion upon seeing the pitchfork and demanded, "What are you doing here?"

Maurice could not think of a suitable excuse. He did not want to appear to be a stalker, but that felt like the truth. After all, he'd only come up here to catch a glimpse of her. Short of telling her the truth, what could he say?

"Pardon me, mademoiselle," he began awkwardly. "I come on behalf of Mrs. Potts. She wanted to know what you wanted for breakfast tomorrow."

Predictably, Belle's brow furrowed even further at this. Maurice wanted nothing more than to run from the room, but seeing as how he had no legs, she would catch up to him easily if she chased after him. He had to hold his ground.

"Tell her the usual will be fine, thanks," Belle replied, not bothering to hide the suspicion from her voice. "Is that all?"

 _No, Belle. I also came to tell you that I am your father,_ Maurice yearned to say, but he bit back the words before they could escape from his lips. Not wanting to walk away from her just yet, he risked hopping further into the room and stopped a few feet away from where she sat. "Forgive me if I'm being too forward," he said hastily. "But I also wondered if you were okay."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well," Maurice began. This was not going at all the way he'd planned. "I know the wolves can be vicious creatures. You were lucky to get away unscathed."

Belle shrugged and finally returned her attention to the window. "If it hadn't been for your master, I might not have gotten away."

Maurice resisted the urge to wince. He hated to remember that he owed Prince Adam his daughter's life. Not that the prince knew. He hoped he didn't, anyway. It would be just like Lumiere to tell the entire castle about his secret in order to force him to reveal his true identity to the young woman now living with them. But he knew his secret was still untold, mostly because Belle had not already demanded answers from him. If she was anything like her mother, she would be a strong, inquisitive person who did not rest until she got the answers she desired.

"Well," Maurice said at last, unable to think of anything else to say. "If you ever want to talk, I am here. I may not be around much, but I'm easy to find. I live in the broom closet near the entryway to the castle should you ever need me."

Belle smiled, though she did not look away from the window. It was clear enough through the reflection, and it warmed Maurice more than he ever could have hoped. "Thank you. I'll keep that in mind."

Maurice took that as his cue to leave. He bade his daughter good night then hopped out of the room. _Perhaps,_ he thought as he made his way back downstairs, _I can have a relationship with her, even if she does not know who I am. Maybe it will be better this way._

He ignored the nagging feeling in his heart that told him it may be better for him, but it was not better for her. That feeling's voice sounded an awful lot like Lumiere.

* * *

"Good morning," the Beast greeted Belle the next day in the dining room. "Did you sleep well?"

Belle spared him a quick glance before answering, "Yes, thank you."

It wasn't exactly the truth. After the brief, unexpected conversation with the pitchfork last night, Belle had lain awake in bed as she tried to figure out his motives. She had forgotten about the object that she had not seen since her first night in the castle. She could not even remember his name. He'd seemed so concerned about her. More concerned than a stranger ought to be for another stranger…

"I'm glad." The kitchen cart rolled into the room and the servants immediately set to work. Belle refrained from helping them get all the trays on the table. The first time she'd tried they'd waved away her help and insisted that this was their job. It felt silly watching them struggle, but they'd insisted and Belle did not want to be rude.

"Did you?" Belle forced herself to ask once the kitchen cart disappeared, leaving the two of them alone once more.

"Did I sleep well?" The Beast sounded confused by the question. Belle had the sense no one had ever asked about his well being in a long time.

After Belle nodded the Beast said, "Yes I did. Thank you."

Belle winced at the awkward, forced conversation, grateful for the excuse to stop talking as she ate. Breakfast was nearly over by the time her companion spoke up again. "So, did you have any plans for the day?"

Belle shook her head before she could stop herself. She had not intended to admit to him that she did not have much to do in the castle. The servants were always busy so there was rarely anyone to talk to. She'd explored as much of the castle as she'd felt comfortable with. The Beast had said she had free reign of the place, but it felt strange wandering around. Despite his assurances otherwise, she still felt like an intruder.

"Surely you had something in mind. What do you like to do?"

As she set her empty plate aside, Belle considered the question for a moment before replying. "I love reading."

Surprisingly, the Beast smiled at her words. "I take it you have not found the library yet?"

"There's a library here?" Belle perked up slightly, all thoughts of the strange conversation with the pitchfork moving to the back of her mind.

"Of course. Would you like me to show you?"

Belle nodded. After breakfast they left the dining room together and the Beast led her up to the second floor. They walked down corridor after corridor, finally stopping at what seemed to be the farthest corner of the castle. No wonder she hadn't found it yet. She'd had yet to wander this deep.

"You're in for a treat," the Beast said as he pushed open the large double doors of the library. He walked inside, and Belle followed, though she stopped a moment later upon seeing the vastness of the room in which she now found herself.

It was huge. Belle had never seen so many books in her entire life. She could have fit the entire library back at Madam Rouchard's three times inside this room. Her jaw dropped as she realized just how many books she now had at her disposal. It would take more than her entire life just to get through half the books that called this library home.

"Do you like it?" the Beast asked with a touch of eagerness.

Belle could only nod. When she found her voice, it was barely above a whisper. "It's _wonderful."_

"I'm glad," the Beast replied. "You may come in here as often as you like. Feel free to take as many books up to your room as you'd like. I don't find much use for them anymore."

The Beast lingered a moment longer, clearly entranced with Belle's reaction to his library. She hardly noticed as he took his leave. She spent the rest of the afternoon in the library, exploring shelf after shelf as she tried to determine which books she wanted to read first. She was so entranced by her task that she did not notice the pitchfork lingering near the doorway, watching as she took down book after book.

By the time she finally decided which books she would take to her room, it was time for dinner. She hefted the five enormous volumes up to her bedroom then made her way back downstairs. For the first time since meeting him, Belle was looking forward to her conversation with the Beast, eager to thank him for showing her the library. Not only would it quench her desire to read, but it may also provide her with clues about the mystery of the castle and its inhabitants.

Belle nearly inhaled her dinner in her haste to return to her bedroom. She intended to spend the rest of her night reading in the hope that she would find something useful. Surely the Beast and the enchanted objects had not come into existence in their current forms. It had to be some kind of spell. She'd been surprised to find a few spell books in the library. She hoped he would not inquire too much into her selections.

Belle spent the rest of the night reading, completely engrossed in her book that she did not notice the pitchfork that kept to the shadows, watching her. She did not notice him take stock of what she was reading, nor did she notice when he finally left her just after midnight.

If she had, she might have noticed the fear in his eyes as he hopped to the study to inform Lumiere of what Belle had chosen to spend her time reading.


	10. Chapter Nine

**When the Petal Falls  
**

* * *

 **Summary:** Maurice works for Prince Adam at the castle to support his wife and young daughter. He is cursed with the rest of the castle when the Enchantress crashes the party, unable to return to his family. Soon after his wife succumbs to her sickness and passes away. Belle is placed in an orphanage for the next thirteen years, until she runs away in search of a father she barely remembers. She vows to find him and bring him home, but she gets more than she bargained for when she stumbles upon a lonely castle surrounded by winter.

 **A/N:** Sorry that this update is later than usual. Hopefully this chapter makes up for it. :)

* * *

 **Chapter Nine**

Evening was falling as the servants entered the west wing. Prince Adam immediately picked up on their nervousness, but it did not annoy him as much as it used to. Up until Belle's sudden arrival at the castle Adam relished the solitude, preferring to remain alone rather than endure the hushed whispers and sidelong looks. He knew they blamed him for their cursed existence. He was the one responsible, after all. He knew most of them had families they'd worked to support, and those families had forgotten them because of the spell. He tried not to think about it too much because it only caused the guilt to rise up from the hole in his heart he tried to keep buried as much as possible. Whenever it threatened to rise up he tried to busy himself with activities, but it rarely worked. He was doomed to feel the pain of himself and everyone around him.

He looked up from the book he'd been reading and tried to appear nonchalant as he mumbled, "Yes?"

As usual, Lumiere was the one to speak up. He'd become the voice of the servants because he was the boldest among them. He knew the mantel clock was too timid and the teapot was too afraid she'd anger him. There were others, but those were the three main ones who endured his presence. Adam didn't mind. The fewer people he had to put up with, the better.

"Forgive our intrusion, master," Lumiere began, as he so often did when he had news that he did not want to say. "But we felt it was important to tell you about the selections the young mademoiselle has taken to her room."

If Adam had eyebrows in his beastly form, he would have risen one in obvious contempt. "What about them?"

"We do not mean to overstep our bounds," Lumiere hastily explained, waving his candlestick arms in front of him. "We know you told the girl she had free reign in the library, but the books she took…well, we are afraid she may be getting wise about the curse."

At this Prince Adam frowned and abandoned both his book and his seat and stood up, beginning to pace. "Why would you say that? Which books did she take?"

"A spellbook," Cogsworth said, speaking up at last. "Maurice informed us this morning that she has begun to read one of the few spell books in the library. Out of all the books she could have chosen from, why did she choose that?"

Adam picked up on the clock's worried tone, and tried not to appear as though this news unsettled him. "She was probably looking for something different. One does not usually run across a spell book. Her curiosity must have gotten the better of her."

Lumiere and Cogsworth exchanged doubtful looks.

"Why would Maurice come to have this information? Has he visited Belle?" The thought did not sit well with Adam, though he did not know why.

"Well, he did meet her during her first day here. He came with us when we…"

"Gave her a bedroom," Adam finished with a dark undertone. It had always been one of his pet peeves when one of his employees blatantly disobeyed a direct order.

"Yes," Lumiere replied, his voice wavering for the first time. "Nevertheless, he has…taken a liking to the young woman, and visited her last night. That was when he noticed which books she took to her room."

"Why would Maurice take a liking to her? Doesn't he spend most of his days in that broom closet of his?"

"He must have been feeling lonely, cooped up as he was. Having someone new in the castle was bound to pique his interest."

Something about the candelabra's tone made Adam frown. There was more to that story. He stopped pacing and raised himself up to his full and considerable height, his gaze bearing into Lumiere's in that way that announced he was going to find out the secret one way or another.

It worked.

"Master…you must forgive us for keeping this from you sooner. Maurice was afraid if you knew…well, it might drive the girl away."

"Why is Maurice so concerned? Since when did he become involved with the events of the castle?"

"Well," Lumiere began, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. He kept throwing Cogsworth meaningful looks, but the mantel clock clearly was not going to help. He took a step back and gestured for Lumiere to continue. Adam made a mental note to speak to his stable hand the first chance he got. "Maurice is so concerned about the girl because she happens to be his daughter."

Silence settled over the room. Prince Adam gaped at his servants, not quite comprehending what he'd just been told. He opened his mouth, then closed it, unsure what to say. Finally, in a voice that dripped with confusion, he said, "Belle is the pitchfork's daughter?"

At this both Lumiere and Cogsworth frowned. "Obviously he was a man _before_ he was a pitchfork," Lumiere said before he could stop himself. Catching himself, he stared up at Adam uncertainly but Adam paid him no heed.

"I did not know Maurice ever had a daughter." It was like finding out that the ocean was green, not blue.

"Yes," Lumiere replied. "He was married before the curse and sent the money he earned down to the village to support his wife and daughter. The girl was only three when we were cursed, from what I understand."

"So how can he be sure that Belle is his daughter? He has not seen the girl in…" he trailed off as he suddenly realized that he had no idea how long the curse had been in place.

"Fourteen years, five months, and two days," Cogsworth finished dryly.

"Right. How can he be so sure? Maybe Belle only reminds him of his daughter."

"His daughter's name was Belle," Lumiere replied softly.

"And supposedly she is the spitting image of Maurice's wife," Cogsworth added, almost as an afterthought.

"But…" Adam trailed off, still trying to wrap his mind around the possibility that Belle was related to one of his cursed servants. "Does she know who he is? Could that be the real reason she is here? Is she trying to rescue her father?"

Lumiere shook his small, golden head, looking as sad as Adam had ever seen him. "No, Master. Belle has no idea who Maurice really is. Maurice refuses to tell her."

Adam did not know why that news sent a shiver of relief down his spine, but he tried not to let Lumiere or Cogsworth know. He forced a look of solemn contemplation on his face as he regarded the two servants who still looked uncertainly up at him.

"Why would he not want to tell her? Shouldn't he be glad to have his daughter back in his life?"

"I could not say, Master. Perhaps after all this time, he has grown accustomed to being alone."

Cogsworth stepped forward though he was careful to stay a foot behind Lumiere as he tentatively asked, "Are you going to tell the girl?"

Adam thought about telling Belle just to spite Maurice, but knew he would not. He had no reason to. The old, selfish part of him wanted to keep Belle to himself a little while longer. He had no grudge against his stable hand, and therefore had no reason to go against his wishes. If he wanted to remain apart from his daughter, if Belle was indeed his daughter, it was of no concern to him.

"No," he decided. Both Lumiere and Cogsworth visibly exhaled in relief. "It will be for Maurice to decide when Belle should know. She will not be told until Maurice wishes it."

"Understood, Master," they replied.

"However," he spoke up, and Adam knew that if they had still been human their faces would have paled in nervous anticipation. "Let Maurice know that the longer he waits, the harder the inevitable will become. Belle has been through enough already. She should not be kept from her father any longer than she already has."

Lumiere nodded while Cogsworth said, "We will, Master."

The unspoken truth that Adam was the reason Belle and Maurice had been kept apart for the past fourteen years hung in the air, so heavy and pungent that Adam nearly choked on it. He was glad to be left alone again once Lumiere and Cogsworth left so that he could bury himself in his book once more in order to stifle the amount of guilt in his heart that only grew stronger by the minute.

* * *

By the time she finished the spell book she'd found in the library, Belle was sure of one thing: magic was complicated.

Her head swam with all the information she had gathered about spells and magic, so much so that she was not sure she would ever go back to her mundane existence before reading the book. Of course, it could be nothing more than fiction; something written to make the readers believe magic existed in a world where it so obviously did not. Belle would have believed it if she did not find herself living in a castle where the master was a beast and objects talked and moved around as though they were alive.

As much as Belle tried to convince herself otherwise, she had come to the conclusion that she was not living in a dream, nor was she hallucinating. Everything she had seen and everyone she had met since leaving Madam Rouchard's was real.

Belle longed to ask about the mystery surrounding the castle, but she simply could not find the words. Nothing she thought of sounded quite right, and it all ended up coming across as rude or impolite. She felt strange about concerning herself with the feelings of a candelabra, clock, teapot, and pitchfork, but it was easy to overlook when the otherwise mundane objects began speaking back to her. Sometimes it was easy to overlook their unhuman-like bodies. Belle had to remind herself on more than one occasion that Lumiere, Cogsworth, and the others were things, not people.

She told herself that she would find the courage to ask. She just needed to find the right time, and with the right one. As much as the Beast's outward demeanor had changed toward her, she still did not feel comfortable starting a conversation with him. She still felt like an intruder in the castle, despite his invitation to spend as much time there as she needed to. She would need to try with someone else. Lumiere was very talkative, but he also seemed to be the Beast's second-in-command, and she suspected that he would report her questions to the Beast the first chance he got.

She had not spoken too much with Cogsworth, but he was distant enough that she did not think he would answer any question she asked him. She hardly ever saw Mrs. Potts.

Which left Maurice.

She supposed it would not hurt to ask him. He'd admitted to her that he spent most of his time alone. Did that mean he did not spend too much time with the Beast? Somehow she could not see the two of them holding a conversation. The pitchfork seemed the Beast's opposite in every way. She decided she would ask him when the moment arose.

Feeling restless, Belle decided to take the books she'd already read back to the library. She'd already read two books, one of which was the spell book. The activity had reawaken her desire and now she found she could not get enough. Belle longed to escape into the stories that awaited her in that vast library. She knew she could leave the castle any time she wanted to, but with so many books at her disposal the desire to leave had decreased somewhat. She still longed to find her father more than anything, but the idea of going back into that wolf-infested forest did not appeal to her.

 _A few more days,_ she thought to herself as she began the trek from her room to the library. _I'll spend a few more days here then I'll ask the Beast about his promised help to get through the woods safely._

As she stepped across the threshold into the massive room, she couldn't help but marvel at the vastness of the library. Belle did not think she would ever get over how many books this room held. Once again she was overcome with anxiety over how many books she could choose from. How would she ever settle on a mere handful?

The sunset slowly crept into the wide window facing it, illuminating Belle's face as she browsed the shelves. She basked in it, never getting many opportunities to feel the sun's rays back in Villeneuve. The only opportunities she ever had to go outside had been when she was assigned laundry duty. Madam Rouchard rarely gave the children a chance to run around, afraid they would see it as their chance to run away. Belle had always been tempted as a child, but had always been too afraid to strike out on her own. As much as she hated her life at the orphanage, she'd never had anywhere else to go.

Her time here made her wonder why she'd never tried to leave sooner. Her initial welcome at the castle had been less than ideal, but the taste of freedom she now had was addicting and liberating. She knew she would never go back to feeling trapped again.

Belle did not know how long she spent in the library. She spent hour after hour perusing the overstuffed shelves. By the time she'd examined the library's contents in its entirety, she had at least twenty books on the large oak table. She gave each of them a thorough examination and tried to limit her choice to two. By the time she replaced the ones she decided against and took her two choices back to her room the sky was pitch black. Even the moon had decided not to rise.

She only left her room to eat a quick dinner with the Beast, who remained his usual quiet, thoughtful self. He seemed even quieter than usual, though Belle did not ask if anything was wrong. She knew she would either get no answer, or no answer and a taste of his vile temper, and decided that she did not have the energy to experience it that night. She was too tired and eager to go back to her room and begin one of her new books.

It was late into the night by the time a soft knock came at her door. Belle stifled her irritation as she called, "Come in!"

It was the pitchfork. Belle sat up in bed as Maurice hopped into her room. Belle was glad she hadn't changed into her nightgown yet as Maurice hopped on to her bed without an invitation. Belle was surprised that she was not angry about his boldness. It was nice to have a visitor, even one as strange as him.

"Did you need something?" Belle asked when it was clear Maurice would not be the one to speak first. She hoped her words did not sound as blunt to him as they did to her.

"I only wished to know if you were settling in well here."

"Oh." Belle considered before finally shrugging, holding her book close to her chest. "Yes, I guess I am."

Maurice inclined his skinny body at the book. "I see you like to read."

For the first time Belle's face broke out in a wide grin. "Yes. I love to read. I have ever since I can remember."

"Did you pick it up from your mother?"

Belle's grin vanished almost instantly at the mention of her mother. She spoke into her lap as she said, "I do not know. I cannot remember much about her."

"What do you mean? Do you not remember her?" If Belle had been paying closer attention, she might have noticed the hint of dread and unease that coated Maurice's words.

"I don't remember much. She died when I was four."

A heavy silence fell. Belle felt a tear escape her eye, though she hastily wiped it away before the pitchfork could notice. She did not want to appear weak or sentimental in front of him. He already knew she'd needed saving from wolves. She did not want him to think she could not handle talking about her family as well.

"And your father?" Maurice sounded as though he'd forced the words out.

Belle shrugged, her gaze still focused intently on her lap as she said, "I don't know. I can't remember him."

"Do you know his name?"

"No," Belle admitted, feeling another tear fall. "It's as though he never existed. I can't remember him and no one can tell me anything about him."

Maurice was silent for a moment. It was impossible to tell what he was feeling from his small, faceless body. When he spoke up again his voice was barely more than a whisper. "May I ask where you grew up?"

"In Villeneuve. I was taken to Madam Rouchard's. The village orphanage," she added before Maurice could ask what Madam Rouchard's was. "I lived there up until the day before I came here. I left in order to find my father. I know he is out there somewhere, and I intend to find him." She did not know why she'd admitted all that to Maurice. Telling the story of her past to the Beast had been one thing. He'd saved her life and gave her shelter against the wolves. Maurice was a stranger who had barely spoken more than a handful of words to her. She had no reason to admit anything to him.

"How do you intend to find him when you do not know his name?" Maurice's words were not harsh. They were gentle and kind, not doubtful or with any trace of humor. She'd gotten plenty of that back in Villeneuve when she talked about her desire to find her father.

"I know his surname," she said. Something about her tone made the pitchfork jump slightly. She could only call it surprise.

"You do?"

Belle nodded. "My full name is Belle Celine Fournier. My middle name came from my mother. I know Fournier is her married name. Whoever my father is, his last name is Fournier. It is as good a place to start as any. As soon as I get to the nearest town I plan on looking into their records for anyone who went by that name."

After a moment, Maurice said, "That is a good plan. I…I wish you the best of luck on your search."

Belle smiled, wiping away yet another tear as she said, "Thank you."

As Maurice turned to leave, Belle called out after him, sounding rather surprised. "You're the first one I've said all that to who did not try to tell me I was wasting my time."

Maurice paused and turned to look back at her. "I am?"

Belle nodded as she said, "Everyone in town assumes he is dead. He's been away for so long, and no one knows who he is. I almost hope he is."

"Why?" Maurice whispered, sounding as though he did not want to hear the answer.

"I can accept his absence in my life if he is dead. Why else would he stay away all these years?"

Maurice made a motion that implied he wanted to shake his head as he said, "Why indeed?"

Belle bade him goodnight as he left, only realizing minutes after he was gone that she had not asked him any of her questions about the curse. As she extinguished her light and settled herself into bed, she hoped Maurice would not tell the rest of the castle about her past, or her fool's errand to find her father. She knew they would only laugh.


	11. Chapter Ten

**When the Petal Falls  
**

* * *

 **Summary:** Maurice works for Prince Adam at the castle to support his wife and young daughter. He is cursed with the rest of the castle when the Enchantress crashes the party, unable to return to his family. Soon after his wife succumbs to her sickness and passes away. Belle is placed in an orphanage for the next thirteen years, until she runs away in search of a father she barely remembers. She vows to find him and bring him home, but she gets more than she bargained for when she stumbles upon a lonely castle surrounded by winter.

 **A/N:** I feel so terrible that this update took so long. I took a mini hiatus from fanfiction due to my hectic work schedule. Hopefully that will be sorted out now. Anyway, here we are. A little note about the story mentioned at the end of the chapter. Everything I found, I found on wikipedia, so if I got anything wrong, let me know so I can change it. Other than that, enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter Ten**

Gaston knew he was lost.

As he wiped the sweat from his brow, he scanned the dense patch of forest all around him and reluctantly admitted to himself that he had no clue where he was. He did not know the direction he ought to go if he wanted to return to Villeneuve. The prospect of returning to his pub was tempting, but every time he considered turning around he thought of Belle out here, alone.

Even though he'd only known her for a couple of days, Gaston had gotten the sense that she could take care of herself. He could easily picture her roaming the forest, armed with nothing but her own wit, and surviving. He admired her for it, but there were other elements in the woods that would prove difficult for her to survive. He'd heard the insistent howling of the wolves, and each time their voices pierced the air it sent shivers down his spine. Gaston was not a coward by any means, but it did not mean he was not cautious.

He knew the only thing that kept him going was the look on that Rouchard woman's face if he should return empty-handed. He knew she had to be waiting for him to fail so that she could gloat and say that she had been right about Belle all along. He refused to give her the satisfaction.

As the sun began to set below the horizon, Gaston reluctantly had to admit that he needed to give up for the night. He needed to seek shelter or else he would not be of use to anyone. The howling of the wolves grew distant, but he knew that would not last. As natural predators, they would not stop hunting until they found worthwhile prey. And humans, Gaston knew, were the ultimate prey.

He did not dare risk a fire, knowing it would only alert the wolves to his presence. Instead he found a large copse of trees and burrowed himself in as much as possible. It was not comfortable, but it offered the best cover he was likely to find. If he wanted to live to see tomorrow, it would have to do.

Wishing he could have been of more help to Belle when she'd come to him, he settled himself in for a long night.

When Gaston opened his eyes the following morning he felt more exhausted than he had when he'd laid down. It had not been a good night since his unease of the wolves did not allow himself to sleep fully. He took out a piece of bread for his pitiful breakfast and carried on, reassuring himself that he would find something more suitable on his way.

That proved difficult the farther he walked. There were few animals this deep in the woods, and those Gaston did find were frightened away at the smallest noise. They were undoubtedly wary of the wolves and any other predators that were lurking, and Gaston hardly blamed them for their fear, but that did not mean he was frustrated by the lack of good game.

His days passed in the same fashion. He would spend the day continuing on his journey, keeping his eyes peeled for anything he could use for food, then hunker down in the best shelter he could and slept with one eye open, cautious as always for the wolves that prowled the night.

Gaston quickly lost all track of time. He no longer knew how long he'd spent in the woods. More than once he'd convinced himself that he was lost and no longer knew the right way to get to the nearest town. It nearly sent him into a panic before he remembered he'd been a skilled tracker during his days in the army. He knew he was going the right way simply by keeping track of the direction of the sun. The nearest village to Villeneuve was due east, and that was the direction he was going.

By the time the town came into view Gaston knew he would look quite a sight. His clothes were filthy and torn in certain areas that he knew would make any mending impossible. He was covered from head to toe in dirt and grime. The townspeople would surely think him a homeless vagrant who had gotten lost in the woods, but he did not let himself worry too much about that. As long as he found Belle alive and in one piece, he would not care what anyone thought.

As he approached the simply wooden sign on the outskirts of the town, he learned that this town was called Arbois. Up until that point he'd always thought Villeneuve was the smallest town in France, but as he looked upon this new town he realized he'd been wrong.

As he crossed the border between the forest and Arbois, he was struck by the thought that he could go from one side of the village to the other in a hundred steps. The buildings were small and squat, and pushed so close together that he did not think he would fit in the small gaps between them. It was as though a giant had taken the town and pushed everything together.

Gaston pulled himself to his full height and walked into town with confidence, trying to look as though he belonged there. He noticed the townspeople he passed give him confused, disgusted looks, but did not let it bother him. He only had eyes for Belle. She had to be here somewhere.

He quickly decided that the best course of action would be to simply wander the town and look for her. Arbois was small enough that he would have to stumble upon her at some point.

As time wore on, however, he had to admit his current strategy was not working. Every building and street he passed held no sign of her.

"Hello, there," came an unexpected voice from behind him. Gaston jumped, then immediately cursed himself for it. He turned around and found a short, portly man behind him. He held out his arms in a gesture of surrender then chuckled. "Sorry. I did not mean to frighten you."

"No harm done," Gaston replied, putting as much joviality into his tone as possible. He needed this man not to walk away from him. He was the first townsman to look at him without revulsion. "You simply startled me."

"Can I buy you a drink? You look like you could use one."

Gaston regarded the man for a moment before finally nodding. "Thank you."

The man led him into a small square building that Gaston had passed more than once on his earlier exploration of the town. As they entered the pub Gaston could not help but feel pleased that his pub back in Villeneuve was bigger and busier. In fact, besides his companion and himself, there were only two other patrons. His companion led him to the bar and sat down on a stool in the center. Gaston sat down on his left. No sooner had he taken his seat did the bartender saunter over to them. His gaze passed over Gaston and landed on the other man.

"Robert! You're here early. You having the usual?"

Gaston's companion nodded then gestured to Gaston. "What are you having?"

Gaston ordered a pint, then watched as the bartender walked away to fill their orders.

"So what brings you out to Arbois? I don't think I've ever seen you before, even in passing."

"I'm from the village on the other side of the wood. Villeneuve. I hardly ever leave, due mostly to my business. I own the local tavern there," Gaston explained, noting that to his ear it sounded as though he were bragging to this other man. He tried to ignore the feeling as he continued. "I came because I seek a woman."

"I knew it," the man, Robert, cut in with the hint of a smirk on his face. "What other reason could there be for a man to brave those woods?"

"Not like that!" Gaston exclaimed, realizing his mistake. He hastened to explain. "She left a couple days ago, and I didn't exactly feel right about our parting. I was wondering whether you'd seen a young woman…"

He was interrupted once again, only this time it was by the bartender. He returned with two pints of ale. Robert took his but did not take a sip. Gaston took advantage of the interruption by downing half of his. He hadn't realized how thirsty he was. Water had been scarce in the forest.

Robert watched him expectantly when Gaston put down his mug a few seconds later and looked back at him. "You were asking about a woman?"

"Yes. She's young just a few months shy of eighteen. She has long brown hair and was last wearing a simple blue dress. Have you seen a young woman fitting that description?"

Robert shrugged then finally took a sip of his drink. When he put it down he said quietly, "There are quite a few young women fitting that description, but none of them are strangers. I know them all by sight. The only stranger to come out of those woods in the last couple months is you, my friend."

Gaston's heart sank. He downed the rest of his drink and tried not to let the new images that popped into this mind take over his nerves. He remembered suddenly how many howls he'd heard in the night, how dark the woods could get when the moon didn't shine brightly in the sky. How little sustenance he'd been able to find. And he was a hunter. There was no telling how Belle had fared. Hearing this stranger say that he had not seen anyone except Gaston emerge from the woods did not sit well with him.

"Then I'll be on my way," Gaston finally said. He stood up and dug around in his pocket for any spare coin, but his companion placed a hand on his arm to stop him.

"You won't be any good to the woman you seek when you are hungry and exhausted as you are. You'll do better to stay the night and go back into the woods tomorrow. Besides, it could be that she did come out of the woods and someone else saw her. It's not as though I keep watch on those trees at all times. Ask around. Maybe she's here after all. But you definitely should not go back as you are. You'd be easy pickings for those wolves."

For a long moment Gaston could only stare at the man. His greatest desire then and there was to slap him, but he knew there'd been no ill will in his words. If he went charging back into those woods in his current state, there was a good chance he would never make it back to Villeneuve alive. His instincts were raw, his reflexes dulled, and he could barely keep his eyes open. He longed for another drink, but he knew what he really needed was sleep. That and food. And Robert was right about another thing. Belle could indeed be somewhere in Arbois. Just because Gaston had yet to see her did not mean she wasn't there. Maybe she was simply waiting somewhere for Gaston to find her.

"Okay," he said after what felt like hours. "You're right. I won't go back."

Robert smiled and slapped him on the back. "That's wise, my friend. Get a hot meal and a good night's rest then go back out at first light. I'll even accompany you half the way. Two pairs of eyes are better than, after all."

Gaston thanked the man and followed him out of the pub and through the town. As Gaston made his way deeper into the town of Arbois he kept a watchful eye out for Belle, but there was no sign of her. He knew in his gut that she was not there, but the hopeful part of him refused to believe it. He wasn't yet ready to give up hope.

He followed the man into a large building that he only realized was an inn after he'd stepped inside. He thanked Robert then got himself a room. The moment he opened the door he collapsed on the bed and quickly fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

The next couple of days were both the best and the worst of Maurice's life thus far.

After their conversation in her room the other night Belle had spent more and more time in his company, talking to him about things she'd noticed in the castle or about a peculiar thing she'd read in one of the many books she took out of the castle's library. Maurice was pleased that she sought him out, but also dreaded their daily conversations because they only left him with a growing amount of guilt.

Deep in his gut he knew that his separation from Belle was not his fault, but that knowledge did not stop him from hating himself every time he looked into her wide brown eyes. If he'd never taken the damned job as the castle's stable hand, he never would have been cursed in the first place.

He watched her every chance he could. He watched her read; watched her clean; watched her roam the castle grounds during the day. She loved to explore. Her sense of adventure was as strong as her mother's. So was her desire to soak up as much knowledge as she could. Celine's nose was never out of a book for long. It seemed she'd passed that trait down to Belle. His heart sank every time he remembered that conversation.

 _"Do you not remember her?"_

 _"I don't remember much. She died when I was four."_

Celine, his darling Celine, had passed away only a year after Maurice was cursed. He'd often consoled himself early on by telling himself that Belle was with her mother, and that they would be okay as long as they were together. How often had he said that to himself? Countless times. And yet he'd only fooled himself. Celine died a year into the curse. From that point on Belle had been doomed to the town orphanage.

He shuddered at the very thought. The place's reputation was not good. The matron mostly kept to herself, but that solitude extended to the kids in her care. They rarely left the place. The boys went to the schoolhouse during the day, but otherwise they did not leave. And the girls…what else did they have to do all day but chores? It broke his heart that that had been Belle's life for the past thirteen years. She hardly knew anything else.

"Monsieur?" Belle's soft voice cut through his musings. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Maurice tried smiling, but of course he couldn't. He doubted she even saw any facial features on what passed for his body these days.

Today found father and daughter in the library. Belle had taken the stack she'd already read back to the massive room and Maurice had entered as she'd been browsing the shelves for her newest selection. Maurice knew she was looking at the few spell books the Master carried in the castle. Belle was a smart girl. She must know that the castle was under a curse. Maurice was forbidden to speak of it, but he'd been spending the past few days trying to figure out ways to help her discover the truth on her own. The spell called for the Master falling in love with a girl and earning her love in return in his current state, but Maurice knew there had to be another way. Perhaps if Belle came upon the spell and could find a second way to break it, she would have her father back and the two of them could go their separate ways. Maurice wanted to put as much distance between them and Prince Adam as possible.

Of course, in order for that to happen, Maurice needed to tell Belle who he really was. The very thought was like jamming a knife into his heart. Just the idea of it sent a bundle of nerves straight through him. Belle had admitted to him that she preferred him to be dead. Any other explanation for his absence from her life would be too painful for her to bear.

"What are you looking for?" Maurice asked as he made his way into the library. "Maybe I can help."

The ghost of a smile passed over Belle's lips. "You'll only laugh."

"I won't," Maurice promised. "What is it?"

Belle's face flushed. "I'm looking for a romance. The Beast isn't fond of them, but a library of this size must have at least a few."

"You've been talking to the Master?" Maurice asked before he could help himself.

"Yes. I told him of my fondness for Shakespeare. We both love reading, which explains his collection." She gestured around the library. "I'm just not overly fond of stories with all action and little else. It seems that's all he prefers."

"Well," Maurice began then stopped himself. Did he dare bring up something from her childhood? He did not want her to reminisce about their family because he did not want to bring that overwhelming sadness back into her eyes. But if he could give her back a piece of her mother…of Celine…

"Yes?" Belle prompted after a moment of prolonged silence.

"If it's romance you want, I would recommend _Roman de la Rose._ Have you heard of it?"

Belle shook her head, but her face was eager and excited, so Maurice explained. "Someone I once loved very much was quite fond if it. The main character finds a garden and encounters many different people. I think you'd like it."

Maurice helped her find it as best he could, though most of the work fell to Belle. It did not take her too long to find it. When she did she eyed the cover reverently, almost as though she already knew that she would love it. She probably would; it was Celine's favorite story, after all.

Later that evening Maurice could not help but watch Belle curl up in her favorite spot in her room with the book in her lap. She devoured it. She couldn't turn the pages fast enough, and by the time she put the book down she had tears in her eyes. It reminded Maurice of Celine so much that he finally had to go back to his broom cupboard. The guilt was eating away at him.

He made a decision then and there. Starting tomorrow he would do all he could to help Belle find a way to break the curse without falling in love with the prince. If they could manage that, then he would tell her who he really was. If she knew before the spell broke, she would run away as far and fast as she could and leave them once again to their doom.

It was the only way solution he had to offer.


End file.
